White Knuckled

Tension building…building…building…

Opposite polarities colliding into each other,

Our mouths are hungry to taste,

May I get lost in you for a while?

Crashing waves of pleasure sending me into shock,

Body shivering; not from the cold.

White knuckled and pale my hand clings to yours,

It feels like I’m dying,

Am I dying?

Looking at you in the moment,

I know that I have.

Witching Hour Longing

Laying in uneasy slumber,

she tosses and turns in a far too large bed,

alone.

~

One more night of many she awaits,

for the arrival of dawn,

when loneliness’ ghosts flee from light.

~

They dare not haunt when garish sun rises,

peeking sleepily over the horizon,

percolating coffee awakening a weary heart.

~

Between paying bills and feeding the baby,

daylight’s busy rhythm soothes midnight’s longings,

deep…deep…in her soul they are always present.

~

To reignite her inner magic kept alive,

in the dreams dancing around her tired head,

a spell cast by a dream weaver’s enchantment.

(c) Amanda Wilson 2013

Myself for Thee

Myself for Thee

Package waits to be unwrapped

A gift given with love to thee

A body that listens to touch

A soul crossed by your words

To be something or nothing

Saved me from drowning in sea

All I can render to you

I swear to be yours forever

Not in love with love at all

More like fumbling in abyss

Never-ending glistening skin

I wish to give you all

I am not pretty ribbons

Give yourself and I am yours

Not to be owned by you

But as a free bird in nest

 

(c) 2012 Amanda Wilson

Courtyard Pulse

Courtyard Pulse

I am night’s amour

You don’t dare

Touch water

Patience

I am not lonely tonight

You are here

Touch darkness

Passion

I am scouting my moon

You see me

Touch eyes

Prayer

I am watching you in shadow

You sense me

Touch pulse

Prosper

I am letting you view soul

You do dare

Touch fire

Pulse

 

(c) 2012 Amanda Wilson

Poetic Interludes

Answer for Suffering

I did not just survive,

Determined to thrive.

Amanda means,

Worthy of love,

Parents believed that I am.

Life took much away

Even memory of feeling loved

All that remains

Is my soul

God heals my heart wounds

Reminding me that

I am worthy of

Love

Longing

Oh beloved…a prince among souls,

What beautiful horrible ache,

For hands touching hands,

Mouths to worship lips,

Hear your voice’s joyous melody

For my fire to wrap itself

Around you like a cozy blanket

To join in the rhythm of being

For energy and breath to flow

Together in unison

Ending this longing.

(c) 2012 Amanda Wilson

Burn

 

Burn

Taste of lover searing tongue

Like Irish whiskey

Swallowed too quickly

Flesh to flesh

Flames licking two bodies

Fuel on the pyre

Profane sacrifice on altar

Blaze dancing in two hearts

Spiraling outwards

Lust

Love

Both consumed by the Fire

With or without it always aches

One feels the Burn

(c) 2012 Amanda Wilson