Apate

I somehow, know you better
Than I could ever know myself.
A lifetime of mundane wonder,
Lit up like a macabre circus.

The dramatic nature of your curves
Brought me close to the precipice
An ant inextricably drawn
To the sickly honey between your thighs.

Your lips were my heroin,
Your breasts my belladonna.
Your eyes, a mirror to my soul,
Your essence my nourishment.

I somehow knew you better
Than I could ever know myself.
A sweet agony of hidden meaning,
Forever about to crash ashore.

One hand clasped on your throat,
Another between your thighs,
A succubus in her element,
Ready to drag you into my abyss.

Daddy’s Good Girl

Bow your head to me
let me grasp the clasp
that binds us,
and makes you feel
whole again

Present your open hands
so I may fill them
with the throbbing object
of my desires

Kneel in poised positions
statuesque perfection
willing and ready
to do Daddy’s bidding
with the nod of a head

Beg me, time and time again
to hold you tight
and fill you,
so completely
with my love.

So you want Sexy Poems?

For you, my reader,
I spread the pages of my soul,
I dip the tip of my tongue
In the forbidden ink of divine intervention.
A lost soul longing for a set of lips,
To kiss, lick, suckle to my heart’s content.

A tickle of a button
So soft it could make a feather tremble,
A breath caught between two sheets;
One second, two, three?
A gasp!
Air rushing through inflamed lungs,
Tiny beads of sweat dangling
On skin as soft as lips
Caressing freshly painted nails.

For you, my reader,
I explore long lost caves
Forsaken by the gods;
Heathen sanctuaries
Of nymphs, sprites, and fairies
I penetrate sacred grounds,
Document my stories
With tale after tale,
Stroke after stroke
Of my pen on shaking parchment.

A trusting hand,
Curling inside forbidden fruit;
A pressure so pure
It parts the sky with its lust.
The surrender…
Sweet delight, like hydromel;
Nectar of the gods.
Even they are unworthy
Of the delicacy, that is you.

© 2020 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Missteries

It’s a knock on the door,
the turn of a key in a lock;
a click of a dress shoe’s heel;
checkered socks on dark hardwood

It’s a kiss on the cheek,
the whiff of sweet perfume
on the nape of a neck;
gentle passions burning,
aflame like a candle’s wick

It’s the heat of a hand,
rough fingers extending;
the warmth of a sigh;
a shudder of anticipation
waiting for a breath

It’s the thump of a heart,
beads of delight dripping
onto softly parted lips;
eager moans beckoning,
the deepening of eternity.

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Seule – for C

loneliness is like a bubble

sometimes all we need
is for it to pop, Pop, PoP!
like a kernel in the microwave

at first, inert,

it doesn’t look like much
then, from somewhere deep within
a heated force of overwhelming power
shines through and breaks the shell.

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Cast away

as the tides turn
I learn to navigate treacherous waters

a viking setting sail for the new world,
I circumvent the currents leading me astray
due north, ever further…

winds batter my mast,
my hull heaves under the tumultuous disarray

the maiden, beautiful in her purity
protects my path with knowledge beyond doubt
Goddess of a world out of reach of my own
she hums to me, angelic, serene

stormy seas
are no match for the newfound calm
that resides deep within my soul.

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Bring Me Back

The perfect drizzle
defines the line between today and tomorrow
A morose specimen,
far too endearing to share with our peers
peers out of its receptacle;
a chill destroys its resolve
“if only pigs could fly,
then I’d get myself out of this darned mess.”
It thinks, unwillingly.

The home of a collector
is not to be taken lightly
on days where the sun’s power dwindles
and the comings of months of death
appear on the horizon.

One step at a time,
it creeps, occasionally lurching
towards a white cover of bliss.
Brought back to the silence
of a city’s breath drawn again
when a cloak of winter descends
leaving everything amiss.

At times, when the sea of stars seems
to lose itself in the vastness of the night
I’ve often longed to hear crisp footsteps,
ones I’ve dreamt of ad-nauseam;
despite the harsh and cruel winter,
they echo the sound of my love’s path
finally finding its way back
into the warmth of my tender embrace.

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved