I can’t be measured. I can’t be measured with you. Not with you.
I try, I do try, but I fail miserably, each and every time. In the face of you, my carnality, my sensuality rises up, forcing its way through my skin, tearing at my flesh, dizzying my mind, shredding the seams of my impatience, my rationality, my experience of time. In the face of you and your body and your passions and your words, I am aflame.
In the end, it is this flame, this fire, my fury, my fervour that has burnt us right up for the very last time. And in its wake there is nothing but the need to guard and shield and hide this flesh, this heart, this vulnerability away, to paper over the fissure of desire you cruelly and tenderly tore open wide, to find my way through the tears and this pain to the love and the lust and the home of man I hunger and crave.
So intense in pain and and in hope…
I fear I have naught but the absence of words in reply to your passionate prose.
Powerful, passionate words…and I'm so sorry to see the “disappointment” tag there….
Hang on in there Minx – big hugs xx
Don't look back, look ahead, there are good things coming your way, I just know it. 🙂
France: Yes, I am. And I'm thankful you can see it so clearly…
Muffin: Your visit is all the response I need…
Max: I'm rather sorry about its appearance here too. But I'm always grateful for your gorgeous praise…
Sensuelle: I feel better already knowing you're sending hugs my way, sweet thing…
Amazon Woman: Well, if anyone can predict the future, I think it's you, my lovely.
(I love the name change, btw. It suits you perfectly…)
It cuts right to the bone. But I hope in every way Minx you are cleansed by the flames.
Your hunger will be sated once more, and again. It burns too brightly not to.
Thank you so much, bhp. And I hope you're right – this desire tears away at this flesh day and night…