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?
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;
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.
Sweet delight, like hydromel;
Nectar of the gods.
Even they are unworthy
Of the delicacy, that is you.
© 2020 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved
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
Deer in headlights,
Sublime emanations and elevations
Poet pierced earnestly
By an artist’s flair
For the unknown and the unusual.
A rabbit in a hole,
Ready to eat your secret garden.
On supported grounds we lose our footing
Angling and dangling towards the unknown
Waters below blue and black
Like bruises we can’t quite place.
Temptations to hold hands,
Reassuringly embrace; pull her back to safety.
Resistance of time, and love.
There is no momentum when gears stick
Just a simple necessity of lubrication
Risk, develop, shine.
Properly oiled machines
Weight of the world on our shoulders.
Powerful feats of engineering,
No longer Puppets, always Puppeteers.
Dance, cry, love, fuck
Never devoid of choice.
Elements in our grasp forming a whole
Living, breathing, dying.
© 2018 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved