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.

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 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.

Mind Over Matter

How does one love?

For is the love of love itself not a confusion,
A disarray of synapses, receiving tiny bolts of information
That make us believe a familiarity, of sorts, can give way
To a rumbling inside that can barely be contained.

But how can this be?

The intensity rises with every thought,
Mouth-watering passion, so thick in the air, you can taste it.
I can smell you, kiss you, taste you, breathe you, swallow you…
Surely this is not merely a figment, or a chemical imbalance.

Do we ever truly love?

The overwhelming need to bond, and retain our feet on solid ground,
Makes one forget that life is more than babbling babes and blue balls
It is adventure; the glance of a flame-haired beauty, across the bar
A piece of silk floating in the window of the forgotten hotel room.

So, what is love, love?

Love is the salty taste of your lips after a run.
It’s the gentle strength of your hand against my cheek.
The softness of your touch when you part my thighs.
It is the warmth of your smile when you lose yourself in thought.
The fullness of your laughter when you can’t contain your amusement.
It is the depth of our souls intertwining, time and time again.
But love is also knowing how to let go when our time is up,
Just to welcome you back in tender embrace, every time you return.
Love is knowing that I am yours, beyond convention and expectation.
It is knowing that you are mine, and that I hold the key to your heart.
Even if no one else will ever know, and we are forever worlds apart.

We are love, love.

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Until We Meet Again – For S

The raw scent of musky love
Envelops my thighs
My back arches, beckoning your arrival
My legs spread gently,
Always willing and ready
To feed you, my relentless lover.

Hands perched on parted thighs,
Only the most palatable position
For the refined and dedicated palate
Of my energetic connoisseur.
A sigh exhales, a moan soon follows
Etching ancient art
Into the heat of my burning body
A bit of this, a splash of that,
Savouring the many shades that unfold
So deliciously onto your tongue.

Nails digging into shoulders,
You tickle me just right
A timeless creator of the sparks
That ignite the fabric of my being.
Aching…
Come closer, my love,
Please,
Yes, slowly…

The deafening rumbling
Of a wave crashing onto shore,
Parting the seas of my lust,
Electrifying my senses.
I gasp for air,
Insatiable.

Overwhelm me with your love,
Just a little longer…
Deeper.
Harder.
Forever.

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Love Nest

Aloft in the nook of her window,
The cat-shaped musings dance eerily on the walls
Feline representations of lust and love
Heeere, pussy, pussy, pussy…
A slight flick of the wrist, a twist of the waist
A kiss blown beyond the cheek, into the loins
A bend and snap, or the pull of a glove
Sway dears, again and again, those hips
Make the succubus green with envy
As she eagerly watches the passersby,
Thighs aching, wings waning, heart pounding
She craves the undying soul of her lover,
Inhaling every scent, tasting every sweetness
Forgetting the misfortune of the chaste
In the dimly lit hall of eros, she calls home.

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Phoenix – Goodbye, L.

I wish I could hold in my hands,
your incandescent insecurities
and use them to fuel your fire.

Oh, what a sight…
Brightly consuming everything
until you emerge from the ashes,
— Radiant —

Yet I feel you slipping
melting through my fingers
down a path, I cannot follow…

A husk of who you appeared to be
anger sketched in steel
between the lines
of your beautiful face,
caught in a frenzy of fear
longing always to run
until there’s nowhere left to go.

I cry out!
The wind whistles in your hair
as part of me flies to catch up.
A little bird of love,
heart of gold and periwinkle,
who’ll follow you forever
no matter where you end up.

NB: Originally written in November 2018. 

© 2018 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Gods and Heathens

Remote locations
Ignite and unfurl deep passions,
As Pele and Kamapua’a
Bear witness, shedding tears of joy.

Feasting on energies,
Primordial and long forgotten.
The Succubus Lilith devours
Humble servants of the flesh
In resolute embrace.

Up, down, beneath, above
Through and through
Bodies intertwining
Beyond understanding.
A tapestry of lust,
Woven by Arachne herself.

The echo of desperation:
A hand longing to grasp
Harder… Harder. Harder!

((((((((( Resonates )))))))))

Through soft pine like
Hephaestus’ thundering blow.

Warm breaths on soft skin
Cries forever lost in a pillow
Beating hearts,
Trying to rip themselves
From their carnal shells.

Symphonic melodies give way
To carnal compositions
Orchestrated by Pan,
Playing the body of Syrinx
In the form of a flute.
Plaintive gasps and tortured cries,
Frozen in time, forever…
Only relieved by the echo of our love.