You Simply Are

There's a scene in a movie in which one of my favorite actor's character is describing the woman he loves. He says, "I love her. The sun rises and sets with her."

I always thought how amazing that would be to have someone feel that way about me.

I don't know if you feel that same way, but I do know this.

When the sun rises,  you are the first person I think about.
When the sun sets, you are the last person I think about.
You are there each moment in between.
You are there even in the rain.
You are there when dark clouds threaten my skies.
You are there when the sun bursts through again.
Quite simply, I take a breath because you are there. 
You are my breath, my soul, my spirit.
You?
Simply are!

~CWylde © 2015
Original Photography by Freddy Camargo  (c) 2013

The High

He enters striding with confidence,

Knowing she can’t see his blind seduction.

She knows it’s time to push his limits,

His jaw sets in controlled detonation.

In one terrifying moment, regret hits her mind, 

She realizes she’s awakened the beast 

From his raving slumber.

His patience she’s pushed,

Tis her bad habit he’s seen.

His eyes say it all without a word,

His soul of fire rages within.

His commands low and deliberate,

She cannot resist his deep dark sin.

Waiting for the first strike,

He taunts, but nothing happens.

She glances begging for his leather,

Her racing heart quickens,

The strike hits hard in a fountain of flames,

She steels herself against the pain.

Not many could withstand the fire felt so strong,

But she is impervious to its bite and sting.

Tis a peaked perfection to her carnal desires,

She feels alive as her passions build higher.

Tears flowing, she knows she’s branded

With his mark, his touch, no longer stranded

In the pit of her own private hell,

He’s carried her through the molten well.

One touch, you’ll see how the interplay works,

Tis the exchange of power, the unwavering thirst

For strength and control, tis her desires

That feed the fuel of his own lustful fires.

A stepping stone was reached in their bond.

An agreement made, a contract signed 

In the marks on her body and the gleam in his eye.

No pride could he steal, no shame in her mind

For this is the power, the bond, the high.

~CWylde © 2015

Unholy Torment

Bound, captured,
Caught in his lair.
His voice soft,
Wicked tones,
Knowing he will not spare 
My aroused body from
His dark carnal lust.
The feel of leather
As it traces my curves,
Breath catches,
So much to learn.
Unholy torment,
Taunting, teasing,
Sinful delight.
First strike sends chills,
First plead, his will,
Second strike,
Urge builds,
Third, fourth, fifth strike,
Craving mounts,
Reaching the nexus
Of unbridled desire.
Needing release,
Begging it so,
His quiet answer - no.
Leather on skin,
Tracing once more,
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
Pleading him to enter in.
That moment,
That burst
Of final climax,
Spiraling into his
Carnal salacious acts.

~CWylde © 2015

 

In His Eyes

Entering this dream divine,
Plummeting into the vortex
Of obsession finding deeper
Meaning in his possession.
Dangerous dreams take me
Into his world, a far cry from hell
In a rush to be his Good Girl.
Takes me from a sleepwalk
Where the distilled essence
Fades into his dark presence.
As I build my world around
His power, his commands,
I finally see my beauty,
Buried deep within,
Come aglow in his eyes
Of perfected love.

~CWylde © 2015

A Few More

I took a journey last night,

The journey took me to a hiding place,

One that I hoped would set things right.

Instead, I found thick silence around me.

The scarlet hours engulfed me

In luminous darkness,

My soul quaked.

I begged for mercy to no avail.

Indeed, my cries brought no relief.

There in the shadows he stood,

I stopped and wondered if I could

Push aside my fears and

Let him into my locked up heart.

Can I withstand a second chance?

Will the everlasting flame burn bright,

Or will it simply die out?

I pray these aren’t just symptoms

And lies told to soothe and warm.

My love is true and unconditional

With no slight of hand tricks or

False promises told with sly

Innuendoes and heartless cruelty.

I’ll take the chance and let him in.

His smile says so much.

Indeed, a few more moments,

A touch, a kiss, yes.

It’s all worth it again.

~CWylde © 2015

Misery Does NOT Love Company

I am convinced that there are people who enjoy their story of misery and replay it over and over until it is such an engrained part of their life that to see others happy is something that must be torn down and destroyed.

I get it! I get sad and lonely and fearful and miserable myself. And watching other people’s happiness is sometimes just too much to bear. But I draw the line in writing veiled words through my poetry to tear someone down. I draw the line writing innuendoes of bitterness and anger.

To those who seem to need to perpetuate their own story of misery and project it on me? You have no idea of what I have endured at the hands of others. You have no idea what obstacles I have overcome to be me today.

That doesn’t matter, though. Want to know why? Because I have risen out of my story stronger and willing to fight for what I love and fight to be me.

So, you can wallow in your own self misery and cry to your poor-me-look-what-I-have-to-live-with words of pity. As for me? I choose to live strong, love powerful, love freely, and love me!

Wicked Desires

Dancing in the moonlight skyclad,

Moon beams caress each curve,

Intent to drive him mad.

Fire dances with soft glows,

Skin glistens as the heat grows.

He sits and watches me begin

My primal Raqs Baladi to

The rhythm of the Doumbek beat within.

Hips swaying slowly,

Undulating, Moving to and fro,

Arms held high in abandon,

Hair wildly billowing, eyes aglow

In this churning current of passion.

Drawing in the moon through

The growing erotic pyre.

I twirl and swirl, swaying

Closer and closer to he

Who would have me as

His own wicked desire.

My eyes lock on his

As I dance to the rhythm

Of this urgent collision.

Hips gyrating as Maya Hips

Captivate him as he licks his lips.

Closer and closer, I feel his

Quickened breath as my hips dance

The perfect figure eight meant to entrance.

Just grazing his leg as I tease even closer,

Breasts hang in front of his lips,

He’s losing his composure.

Chest raising and arching,

I see his response and straddle one leg,

Twirl and swirl, a throw of my head,

A wicked laugh as my hair swipes his face

With the scent of jasmine hung in space.

Still gazing into his eyes, daring and undaunted,

Playing the gypsy sorceress, wildly wanton.

Twirling and swirling, the beat

Throbs faster, blood starts racing.

I laugh once more, my core blazing.

Swirling round and round,

Carnal lust raising a fever,

Back facing, arching to view him,

Ass shaking with abandoned fervor.

Swirling and twirling,

Raising my powers,

Beaconing him to enter

My sin filled tower,

Quench my insatiable fires,

Take me now, my Sir,

With your wicked desires.

~CWylde © 2015