My ways

Pretty girls

smile

and flirt

and flatter

but my ways

across the miles

are too dark

for all

but the rarest

most sensual

of souls.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art By Victor Bauer

 

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/Faded Romantic

Art by Annick Bouvattier

 

Not poetry

I have reluctantly realized

thinking of you

and writing your name

in midnight blue ink

on parchment paper

over and over

and over and over

while I whisper

each syllable

does not count

as poetry

though it feels like it

to me.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by Gianni Strino

 

Hesitate

Standing

at the edge

she waits

half hoping

for a gust of wind

a friendly push

or a sudden

twist of fate.

But only she

can decide

whether to jump

or to hesitate.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by Fabrizio Panattoni

 

Like gunfire

I absolutely love

the staccato sound

of confident high heels

exploding

like gunfire

across an expensive

expanse

of polished

marble floor

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by William Oxer

 

High

.

I have been high

on the bottle,

the rich taste of red wine in my mouth

blackberry, cinnamon, tobacco, leather,

Another glass, and another.

And perhaps another.

Until all I know is crimson liquid.

Then brandy or port or absinthe.

Or all three.

Pour me out of a taxi and take me home.

.

I have been high

on acid.

Pills, blotting paper, microdots with happy, hippy names.

Colours bleeding into surfaces into shapes into light.

Music holy with new tones and textures to touch.

The revelations, the meanings, the weird,

finding a new religion in a carpet.

The warm fade and glow

of coming down.

.

I have been high

on adventure,

on exploration, on discovery, the wild, the different, the strange.

On art, on words, on music, on performance, on poetry.

On the strings of my guitar.

On winning, on deals, on negotiation.

On a high-five finish

On landscapes, seascapes, lucky escapes.

On the lights on the harbour twinkling like diamonds

On snow, on ice, on powder.

On that feeling, at the end of the page

when everything

is perfect.

.

I have had

a lifetime of highs

but nothing

absolutely nothing

not a single thing

comes close

to you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by Hamish Blakely

 

Real

I am not a shadow

nor an invention

nor a character created

for a virtual life

to inhabit scenarios

of make-believe

role play

and pretend.

.

I am not a projection

a fantasy

a construction

of someone

I would like to be.

.

I am not just

an avatar

I am corporeal

of flesh and blood

a heart that pumps

a mind that thinks.

A hunger

that burns.

.

And if I should play

a game

in any way

in any context

it is always

for real.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by Jack Vettriano

 

‘Oh’

If I told you

how much

I want you

desire you

ache for you

yearn for you

long for you

need you

to belong to me

body and soul

then your eloquent lips

would form

a perfect circle

as you say

‘Oh’.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Mihail Korubin Miho

 

Control

It is not just about your body.

Though that delights me. The curves and lines. The gorgeous skin. The glorious, elegant, breathtaking shape of you.

It is not just about your beauty.

The rare and striking eloquence of your face. Haunting and mesmerizing. Yet warm and generous.

And it isn’t about your mind, though that plays perhaps the most important part.

It is about control.

To direct you, to instruct you, to conduct you.

To admire you, to adore you, to paint you with words.

It is about knowing you belong to me.

Mine to do with as I will.

Because it thrills you.

It is a difficult concept to grasp.

Unless your natural sexual instinct and desire is to control.

Or to be controlled.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by Aydemir Saidov

 

Education

She thinks

he may know

all the things

she yearns

to know

about the longing

that whispers

so dangerously dark

inside her.

.

She is sure

he will know.

.

She hopes

he will show her.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by William Oxer