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Monthly Archives: December 2015

I remember a girl

arcadia-loui-jover

I remember a girl

She was beautiful.

She had that look I wanted to capture somewhere in my memory and keep safe. To bring to mind when the world is dark and against me. When I need to believe in something wonderful and pure.

I remember a girl

She was beautiful

She had eyes to become lost in, cheekbones like sculpture, and a mouth that would be beyond paradise to kiss. Her hair shone lustrous and liquid. When she threw it back over her elegant, naked shoulders I caught my breath.

I remember a girl

She was beautiful

She smiled at me as she danced. She was sensual and sexy, yet shy and uncertain. She moved with untutored natural grace, her body riding the rhythm. A paradise of curve and line.

I remember a girl

She was beautiful

But nowhere near

as lovely

as you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Loui Jover

 
16 Comments

Posted by on December 30, 2015 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Shadow

Art by Edward B Gordon

 

She lingers

in my words

sleek and smooth

silky and seductive

soft and sweet

a subtle, scented

sensual shadow

her sheer

sexual presence

sculpts and shapes

my every sentence.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Edward B Gordon

 

 
10 Comments

Posted by on December 29, 2015 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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No Stranger to Beauty

Art by Mark Demsteader

No Stranger to Beauty

.

I am no stranger to beauty

It has thrilled me,

haunted me,

betrayed me,

pursued me,

evaded me.

It has danced wild with me

Through soft, velvet night.

It has lain gentle with me

In the quiet, silver dawn.

.

I am no stranger to beauty.

It has inspired me,

Calmed me,

Enraged me,

Tortured me,

Chained me.

It has walked easy with me

On golden summer days.

It has danced only for me

With urgent promise in its eyes.

.

I am no stranger to beauty.

But yours …

Brown eyed

And naked.

Pale skinned

and perfect.

Has taken my breath away.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I must admit to having favourites. This is one of mine. I hope that those who are kind enough to read me regularly will forgive my repeating it once more. For beauty.

Art by Fabian Perez

 
13 Comments

Posted by on December 28, 2015 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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When it is all over

Party__s_over_by_fb101

When it is all over

When the festival has been scattered and strewn untidy across the street.

When the celebration is just a tangle of streamers, lost dreams and deflated balloons.

When the party is tired of music and dance.

When the guests have gone home.

When the fairy lights, strung out like bright and pretty promises, have all dimmed and died.

When the fairground has closed, the rides packed up and broken down.

When the torn posters all show yesterday’s date.

When the carnival has forever left town.

When it is all over.

She will be here.

Forsaking all others.

For me.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I wrote this a while ago. But it always fits the day after celebrations,

Photo stolen from fb101

 
15 Comments

Posted by on December 26, 2015 in Still Life

 

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Edge

Art by Fabian Perez

 

Her hand

betrays her.

It slides

between her thighs.

 

With hungry fingers

she tries

to quieten

her desire.

 

But it barely

takes off

the edge.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez

 
11 Comments

Posted by on December 24, 2015 in Erotica, Poetry

 

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A Holy Season

lonely_road_by_diginoobsi-d34ahxt

A Holy Season

.

It is a holy season.

Cruel winds

shrill at the corners

scrub my face raw.

I hear a choir

dying in every gust.

.

It is a holy season.

Ragged chanting

from the perennial faithful

to celebrate birth.

.

It is a holy season.

Merciless children

torment the purses

of betrayed mothers,

extracting promises

like teeth.

.

It is a holy season.

Her head rests

blind

on my shoulder

leaking tears.

Her dead breath

is captured

in my curls.

.

It is a holy season.

I will undress it,

blue-fingered torture

from collar

to spine.

.

It is a holy season.

Licking thin lips

fresh with the taste

of salt and blood.

.

It is a holy season.

The meek

dream of inheritance

while the mighty

steal the shirts

from their backs.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written during a bitter winter long ago when I lost my heart, my words, and the last tattered remnants of faith.

It has become a ritual for me to post this every year. An antidote to the sentimentality that the season swims in.

photograph stolen from diginoobsi

 
6 Comments

Posted by on December 24, 2015 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Blessing and a Curse

jack-vettriano The assessors

There are a hundred reasons.

Perhaps more.

Why you might long to be sexually owned.

Some might keep you awake at night, clenching your thighs with dewy desire.

Some might be so dark you can barely tell yourself, let alone confide in someone else

Some might have you desperately wishing your lover understood the nature of your need.

Some might have you scouring the internet for images of restraint. pleasure and pain.

Yet one thing is certain.

If it is true, and raw, and deep.

If it is an ache and a longing that seems to have been there even before the budding of your breasts.

If it is a yearning that leaves you breathless, desperate and wet contemplating its almost holy fulfilment…

Then the wanting will never, ever leave you.

No matter how hard you try to drown its insistent voice.

Or how often you indulge its persistent power.

It is a blessing

and a curse.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jack Vettriano

I wrote this a year ago. I was skimming through past posts and thought it could stand another airing.

 
6 Comments

Posted by on December 21, 2015 in D/s, Still Life

 

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