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Category Archives: Poetry

Combinations

How many

countless combinations

of skin and hair

muscle and bone

sinew and nerve

blood and eyes

breasts and lips

were tried

before the sheer perfection

of you?

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

How many?

Art by William Oxer

 
2 Comments

Posted by on March 29, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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More than enough

You are you.

With your sweet heart

your clever mind

your warm smile

your rare beauty

your divine body

your submissive soul

you are more

than enough.

You are you.

You are mine.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not a brand new post, but sometimes valid.

Art by Antonio Sgarbossa

 
2 Comments

Posted by on March 28, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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I think you

I think you

I see you

I write you

I sing you

I want you

I breathe you

I own you

I direct you

I adore you

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Oxer

 
6 Comments

Posted by on March 27, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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No wish

She has

no wish

to escape

the rules

that bind her

nor seek

release

from the terms

of her surrender.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not brand new. But she has no wish.

Art by William Oxer

 
3 Comments

Posted by on March 26, 2021 in D/s, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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A dream of you

A dream of you.

Your legs long on impossible heels. The roll and glide and shimmy as you walk.  And turn.  And dance,

A panther poised.

A gorgeous glide.  A sleek and sensual slide.

Your hair like a storm. Your body clutched tight in a sheath of a dress.

Peeled off slow.

Your arms raised.

Waiting for your wrists to be tied.

Your mouth, your lips, your teeth, your tongue, your breath like a warm breeze.

Calling me to rise.

Your perfect peach of a posterior pressed into my belly, into my thighs, into my hungry. bold tumescence.

A dream of you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written six years ago. These days I dream of you.

Art by Fabian Perez

 
1 Comment

Posted by on March 25, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Every pore

 

I will not stop

exploring you

until I have counted

every single pore

of your perfect skin.

 

And then counted

them all

once more

over and over

and over again.

 

Just to ensure

I do not miss

a single one.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not a new post. But worth counting.

Art by Victoria Selbach

 
6 Comments

Posted by on March 24, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Command Performance

 

 

He wants

to make her body sing

to train her

to direct her

to conduct her

to control her.

 

He wants

to make her body sing

to be his chanteuse

to be his nightingale

to be his diva

to be his leading lady soprano

pouring out her soul

 

He wants

to make her body sing

and sigh

and dance

and glide

and twist

and writhe

and shiver

and sway

and fill his stage

with her perfect submission

a command performance

only for him.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

This post is four years old – but a command performance is always special.

Art by Laszio Gulyas

 
8 Comments

Posted by on March 23, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Drawn

 

I am drawn to you

Like iron to a magnet. Like bee to honey. Like moth to flame. Like vampire to blood.

I feel your pull, I catch your scent, I am drawn to your heat.

I am the wolf whose eyes are full of moon.

My pen writes your name.

My guitar sings your song.

My poetry bleeds for you.

I am captivated, enchanted, enraptured, bewitched, fascinated.

I am utterly enthralled by you.

I am drawn to you

Endlessly.

As you are

to me.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not brand new. But sometimes one is drawn.

Art by William Oxer

 

 
2 Comments

Posted by on March 22, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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More than I could bear

 

The church bells are ringing.

Tuesday is practice night for the faithful and unfaithful campanologists. The peal is uneven, discordant and untidy. A novice is hauling the rope. The sound disturbs the silence. The evenings are usually so quiet here.

I sip my wine. It is nothing special. A syrah grape without provenance, but it fills my mouth with blackberry, and pepper, and smoke. And summer. And memories of her.

She was far too young for me. A child when measured against my grey hair and dark experience. And yet she touched me in a way that few have ever done.

She was lithe and slender and had eyes that saw beyond the obvious, She was as sharp as a glass shard and far cleverer than she realised. Her demeanour was a mixture of swagger and vulnerability. She had the face of a model and the bewitching smile of a girl. She pretended that she was five foot six, but she wasn’t. Her legs were breathtaking, her breasts spectacular on such a petite frame.

She was as heavenly as sin.

She gave herself to me with poetic solemnity and a glorious sense of drama. In retrospect, I think she meant it. She lived for the moment and, just then, with her head bowed, I was the moment.

I am a master of discipline, manipulation and control. But I’m not sure I could ever have tamed her.

She was a wild and wayward spirit.

I don’t know what has made me think of her. Perhaps the confusion of bells, the wine in my mouth, spring rising, the overwhelming certainty that evening is descending on me fast these days.

We drifted apart.

I am glad we did.

She would have only disappointed me.

And that would have hurt her.

More than I could bear.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I found this as I wandered through my writing the other day. It brought back memories.

Art by Thomas Saliot

 

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Can you feel?

 

Can you feel

my eyes

on your body

like a caress

my desire

touching your skin

like a thousand

kisses?

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Oxer

 
6 Comments

Posted by on March 19, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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