“I pull off my mask to the smell of a scented candle. A hint of vanilla all warm and creamy. Beneath the aroma a sweeter sense of love fills me. Overtaking my heart, just as it has for so many years. Come lie with me beneath the sweet aroma. And let me hold you like no one else ever has held before.” Sweet submissions are often covered in lines of a poem. But seldom do they cover the sound of a lone beating heart.
Relegated to my room as the rain falls outside; my heart and mind come to grips with the complexities of love. It’s interesting how you can be surrounded by people that love and more often than not respect you. Yet in the quiet of the day all you can hear is your own heart beating. From the beginning humankind has always been tribalistic, with the exception of a few lone wolves. But even then no one person is an island.
Confined in this prison of necessity, I need my quiet time just to survive. It’s a trait that few understand. Because we often fill in the space with noise and diversion. But I prefer my quiet time although I still require love. Deeper than mere companionship or even sex. My desires run deep for the very soul of another. In my life there have been many substitutions, but none compares to the true flame that consumes my soul. Nothing else creates the passion. Creates the willingness to expose old scares. For there is the light and the muse and no one else.
Relegated to my room as the rain falls outside; my heart and mind come to grips with the complexities of love. It’s interesting how you can be surrounded by people that love and more often than not respect you. Yet in the quiet of the day all you can hear is your own heart beating. From the beginning humankind has always been tribalistic, with the exception of a few lone wolves. But even then no one person is an island.
Confined in this prison of necessity, I need my quiet time just to survive. It’s a trait that few understand. Because we often fill in the space with noise and diversion. But I prefer my quiet time although I still require love. Deeper than mere companionship or even sex. My desires run deep for the very soul of another. In my life there have been many substitutions, but none compares to the true flame that consumes my soul. Nothing else creates the passion. Creates the willingness to expose old scares. For there is the light and the muse and no one else.
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