xLx's blog: "Indulgence"

Are there signs? Words hidden in the apparition

in the misty forms so familiar, so reminiscent

of painful longing, something slipped through fingers?

Imagined? Frozen auguries, crystalline icicles

drip every word, each movement

each passionate moan, until touch is a blade.

Naked flesh that still needs caress, a fingertip's

sinewy flow as ice melts, chill fluids warm

and kisses on thighs lie silent, pulsing

an aroma of desire, deep, rounded in movement

arching back, a repeated curve, rhythmic

in progression, each slow thrust unquestioned.

Silence, lips quiver unspoken truths, a name

dangles in unrepentant splendor, never spoken --

too quickly the turned head, wiped tears

an extended silence and the throb of a bitten tongue.

The moist love washed away without a kiss

without a word or thought, only a sigh.

After the heat, a freeze returns in tiny darknesses

a shadow, a drawn shade, a night repeating there, and here.

Whispers now lost in glare, tossed for someone else

quiet, but almost heard: icy ghosts haunting

each step, each thought and every breath

until, once again, a fire ignites into indulgence.