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Chant your name

fabian-perez-balcones-de-buenos-aires-vii-17722

 

Chant

I will chant your name

The chords beneath my fingers
no longer break the silence
with words I cannot find.
Only hunger resonates.

I will chant your name,

I will chant your name
in this night of endless yearning,
drowning in the echoes
yet thirsty beyond belief.

I will chant your name

Your eyes have held me captive
Starved me without thinking,
crucified my days.
Yet our suffering is the same.

I will chant your name

I will chant your name
A hymn to aching distance
Until all latitude means nothing
Only lines to score desire.

I will chant your name.

Your body will dance before me
a vision of solemn beauty
numbing me with need.
A longing beyond your golden skin.

I will chant your name

I will chant your name

I will chant your name …

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez

If you have read my untidy word juggling, you will know this. But I like it. So here it is again in case you don’t know it.

 

 
11 Comments

Posted by on July 3, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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If by poetry

Painting-by-Steve-Hanks

 

If by poetry

 

If

by poetry

I can make her

flesh and blood

my body on which to press

I will forge

such compelling words

her hungry soul

to steal

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by the late Steve Hanks

I originally tweeted these words over a year ago, but like them so much I’ve decided to elevate them to a blog post. If elevate is the right word.

 
18 Comments

Posted by on July 2, 2015 in Poetry

 

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Aroma

fabian_perez_paola on the couch
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There are fragrances I adore
.
Red wine and the earthy aroma of a mature Rioja. Pepper, smoke, leather, pencil lead, tobacco and oak.
.
The pungent, salty, briny, fishy, seaweed, damp sand, ozone smell of a small working harbour when the boats have returned with their silver, flapping catch.
.
Patchouli, and musk and sandalwood, and the magical promise of marijuana, reminding me of stoned nights lost in music and poetry.
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A garden awash with flowers, wisteria, alyssum, gardenia, magnolia, sweet pea, jasmine and glorious rose.
.
The smells redolent of summer and my childhood – new-mown hay, cotton candy, melting tar, honey, horses, chlorine, cinnamon, chocolate, the drifting smoke of a barbecue.
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And others too – coffee beans roasting, peaty Irish whiskey, wild garlic, the evening after the rain and storm, and the familiar breath of home when I open the door.
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The rich leather of cuffs, collar and blindfold, whips and flogger
.
And most of all, woman.
.
A thousand fragrances, every body different. Her fresh washed hair, her make up creams and oils. Her sweet perspiration. Her soft breath. Her purchased perfume made unique when it meets the personal aroma of her warm skin
.
And that heady, wondrous, eloquent, wild, delicate scent
.
of pure arousal
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
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Art by Fabian Perez
.
I wrote this a year ago exactly. An anniversary excuse to post it again
 
32 Comments

Posted by on June 29, 2015 in Erotica, Still Life

 

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Lost Causes

Painting by Steve Hanks

I am not a man for lost causes.

Indeed I will barely even give chase.

I am not a hunter, a predator, a stalker.

I will not pursue relentlessly. I will not track hungrily. I will not chase regardless.

I will not follow that which has no desire to be caught.

I will not pen midnight poems to attract you, I will not write erotic fantasies to tempt you, I will not create dark, dangerous, delicious scenarios to seduce you.

No matter your sharp intelligence, your eloquent creativity, your breathtaking beauty, your sensual body, your sweet personality, your divine, submissive soul.

I am too proud, too arrogant, too aloof.

And most of all, too afraid of rejection.

I am not a man for lost causes.

But for you, rare, exotic, gorgeous creature

I might just make an exception.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by the late Steve Hanks

 

 
43 Comments

Posted by on June 24, 2015 in Still Life

 

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Solstice

lust_by_xxxshugalxxx-d3hrlnw

I am almost always in control.

Of another, of course, but particularly of myself.

But tonight with the summer solstice girdling the evening with magic, and with a wild, apocalyptic moon building herself in the heavens, I am partially undone.

I pace the humid, velvet, fantasy-rich night with light, hungry, tireless footsteps.

Prowling. Circling. Rattling this invisible chain that tethers me.

I am taut, stretched, urgent. I am savage, romantic, decadent. I am poetic, dangerous, sensual.

I close my eyes and allow the rush of her body to sweep over me, exciting my imagination. Her hips, her thighs, her belly, her breasts. The sweet hollow of her throat. The sacred mound of her sex.

The delicate silk of her hair trailing against my skin. The feel of her gorgeous curves beneath my fingers, against my lips, beneath my tongue.

Her scent filling my mouth.

The certainty of leather restraints upon her elegant ankles and wrists. The circle of a collar about her neck.

I am almost always in control.

But tonight I could roar with this aching, yearning, delicious desire.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from xXxShuGalxXx

It would seem a good time to resurrect this old post. But with new added audio to freshen it up

 
20 Comments

Posted by on June 21, 2015 in Erotica, Still Life

 

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Filling my Summer

Time Standing Still - Steve Hanks

 

Filling my summer

 

The days have lengthened out,

strung from the first stirrings

of tireless birds woken by dawn

to the dark shapes of bats,

soundlessly haunting the dusk.

 

My body has stretched out,

relaxed by the light filled hours,

touched warm by the sun’s rays

and moving easy to the music

of you

filling my summer.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by the late Steve Hanks

 

 

 
10 Comments

Posted by on June 18, 2015 in Poetry

 

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Anachronism

 

untittled-ii-fabian-perez

 

They make me laugh

These boys

With their 50 Shades clichés,

their limited vocabulary,

their barely disguised misogyny,

their ‘do it because I say’ mentality

their unlikely claim

to a suit.

.

They surely only thrill

the most naive

and undemanding

of girls…

.

Yet perhaps it is me

that is old-fashioned.

Anachronistic.

A remnant

from some classical and heroic past

.

One day soon

I shall write it all

as it was

And then hang up

forever

this blindfold

and cuffs.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez

Written a year ago. Still true

 
25 Comments

Posted by on June 16, 2015 in D/s

 

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