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Tag Archives: D/s

Inch by Inch

art-by-javier-arizabalo

 

I am the poetic cartographer

of your sacred body.

I will discover you

and map you,

explore you

and draw you,

observe you

and describe you,

chart you

and render you

inch by perfect inch.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Posted originally four years ago. But I like it because it is what I do.

Art by Javier Arizabalo

 
2 Comments

Posted by on November 28, 2020 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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And then

 

I thought

I had become

immune to beauty

indifferent to sexy

unmoved by submission

unstirred by intelligence

unexcited by control

untouched by desire

unaffected by dance

and then

there was you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written a few years ago – and then there was you.

Art by Peter Worswick

 
2 Comments

Posted by on November 27, 2020 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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That secret

 

That secret.

 

That wild

dark, erotic

sexual fantasy.

 

The one you conceal

from everyone.

The one you hide

from yourself.

 

That secret.

 

That secret

is what attracts me

like a magnet

compels me

like a drug

draws me

moth to flame

makes me yearn

for you

to release it

just for me.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written a year ago. I like it, so another airing.

Art by William Oxer

 

 
2 Comments

Posted by on November 26, 2020 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Friendly ghosts

 

I like to think

the many ghosts

that share these

four hundred year old

ironstone walls

and shelter beneath

this grey slate roof

smile indulgently

at my romantic words

and my dark

dominant ways.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written a year ago. The ghosts are still friendly.

Photograph found on the internet, source unknown. If this is yours please let me know and I will remove or give credit.

 
4 Comments

Posted by on November 25, 2020 in Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Hard

 

I listen

hard

for a murmur of you

for a rumour of you

for a whisper of you

for the sound of you.

 

I wait

hard

for a trace of you

for a glimpse of you

for a sight of you

for the shape of you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Casey Baugh

 

 
2 Comments

Posted by on November 24, 2020 in Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Ink

 

I have a beautiful

elegant

Mont Blanc

fountain pen.

.

I imagine

writing my name

on your exquisite

perfect skin.

 

In dark

Midnight Blue

ink.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new. But sometimes there is perfect skin.

Art by Ovi Hondru

 
5 Comments

Posted by on November 23, 2020 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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His religion

art-by-pino-daeni

 

Her body

has never felt

so revered

so respected

so worshipped

so idolised

so valued

so venerated

so appreciated

so admired

so adored.

 

She is proud

and humbled

to be his religion.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I wrote this some years ago. My religion is dark but it adores.

Art by Pino Daeni

 
2 Comments

Posted by on November 21, 2020 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Berries

 

Outside

in today’s cold wind

I could not help but think

of you

bound with rope

your exquisite nipples

proud and erect

and as hard

as unripened berries

perfectly defined

against the material

of your dress.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new, but that time of the year

Art by Willi Kissmer

 
2 Comments

Posted by on November 19, 2020 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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She is drawn

 

She is drawn

to my dark religion

reads my words

like they are holy

and feels

a heavenly ache

between her thighs.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not brand new writing, but she is drawn

Art by William Oxer

 
2 Comments

Posted by on November 14, 2020 in D/s, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Something has changed

 

Her life is the same.

Yet something subtle, imperceptible, indefinable has changed.

She seeks it in the buildings, the landscape, the weather and the light.  In the steam from her coffee. She looks for it in the faces of others. She tries to find clues in music, in art, and in films that make her laugh and cry. In books and in magazines and in the words of romantic poets

She watches clouds making familiar shapes across an ordinary sky.

She stands surrounded by night and studies the moon and stars. She lets the breeze tug at her hair and listens for something she might not hear.

In her room, with the lights down low, she examines her body, stripping naked, running her hands over her skin. She is alive to her own touch. Her fingers make her sigh. She breathes deeply.

She stares back at herself and tries to read her own expression.

Her eyes give something away. They are bright, wide, curious, excited. Her lips are full, the faintest of smiles kissing the edges. There is the softest blush upon her cheek, and in her throat.

Her life is the same

Yet something has changed.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

This post was written a while ago. But sometimes old things strike new chords.

Art by Laszlo Gulyas

 

 
6 Comments

Posted by on November 12, 2020 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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