Beautiful violence

There is

a beautiful violence

in the way her hips roll

like thunder

her eyes flash

defiance

and her heels

sound like gunfire

as she walks

across a room.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new, but I like it

Art by Annick Bouvattier

 

In my youth

A girl like you.

In my youth I would have fought other boys for the right to walk you home. Wearing the scars like a badge. Or I would have wandered backwards and forwards past your house , hoping to catch a glimpse of you at a window. Or long for you to see me, a shadowy figure beneath the street light, and think me romantic.

In my youth I would have carved presumptuous initials into innocent trees, into battered park benches, into tables, and desks, and the backs of chairs – not caring if I was caught. Or that you would disapprove if you knew.

In my youth I would have sought you out at dances, making a mess of my over rehearsed lines. I would have asked a friend to give you messages – which you would probably receive with a frown.

In my youth I would have made up a hundred heroic stories in my head where I come to your rescue. Saving you from the clutches of the mob, the grip of an assailant, the jaws of death. Or perhaps just finding your lost dog.

In my youth I would have written you tortured poems, toiled over for hours, scrawled on stolen paper, that would never leave the pocket of my faded denim jeans.

In my youth I would have wished for the internet, if I could have seen into the future.

Yet here I am. Connection at my fingertips. Posting pointless poetry.

That you will probably never read

A girl like you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written two years ago, and I am still posting pointless poetry.

Art by Annick Bouvattier

 

Baring skin

 

I adore

the soft

slow

sensual

sound

the tongue

of the zipper

makes

tantalizingly

releasing teeth

and baring skin

as you

undo

your dress.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new – but oh that sound ….

Art by Annick Bouvattier

 

Cannot get enough

 

I am not obsessive

in any way,

nor compulsive

by nature.

 

I do not have fetishes

or fixations,

crazes

crushes

cravings,

infatuations

or fads.

 

I do not have dependencies

or tendencies

towards addiction

 

But I truly

cannot get enough

of your body.

.

.

This is not new. But it says what it says.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Annick Bouvattier

 

Might just be

 

I am captivated

enchanted

enthralled

inspired

made hungry

made breathless

made hard

by the hem

of your skirt

as it rides up

high

on your thigh.

 

Moments

like these

make me believe

there might just be

a god.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Annick Bouvattier

 

 

Chord

A magical

terrifying chord

has been played

deep inside her.

It reverberates

through her body

and sends a wild

deep, dark

delicious shiver

down her spine

.

.

I posted this two years ago and have just found it while looking for something else. Sometimes the chord is played.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Annick Bouvattier

 

 

So many ways

 

A zipper

a button

a bow

a clip

a clasp

a hook

an eye

a belt

a lace

a ribbon

a tie

a buckle

a stud

a popper

a pin.

 

So many ways

to remove your clothes

so many ways

to reveal your skin.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Posted first a year ago. And for me, always relevant and true.

Art by Annick Bouvattier