What’s it like?

 

What is it like?

.

What is it like to be with her

hearing her words

knowing her dreams?

What is like to be hers?

.

What is it like to be closer

stroking her hair

holding her body?

What is like to be there?

.

What is it like to be inside

feeling her skin

parting her thighs?

what is like to be in?

.

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©  the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Oxer

This poem, written by me in my teens, often pops into my head.  I have no idea what I am thinking about that suddenly brings it to mind…..

But here it is – recited by a much older, but sometimes still very inquisitive, me.

Not the first time I have posted it

 

A definition of infatuation

 

For reasons fully known only to myself, some four or five years ago I was looking for a serious definition of infatuation.

But I found this in the Urban Dictionary. It made me laugh so much that I posted it on my blog at the time. I remembered it the other day, and thought a few of you might enjoy it.

Some of us may have been the ‘object’ but who of us cannot admit to having been the ‘obsessor’ at least once.

infatuation

All-encompassing, gut-wrenching, soul-draining activity that only requires the active involvement of one individual: the obsessor. A second individual is required for the peripheral need of providing the obsessor with an object of needless, unappreciated, possibly unwanted, often unwarranted affection. The second individual may or may not be aware of his/her peripheral involvement, and may or may not be willing to be peripherally involved: the object’s awareness and/or willingness of being an object of desire is of no consequence to the obsessor.

.

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Source : The Urban Dictionary

Other words @ the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photograph : The lovely actress Felicity Jones for whom I have had a mild infatuation for the last ten years. I am delighted to see her successful in Rogue One. This photo was taken by Mark Abrahams for GQ magazine in 2014 

 

Another Moment

 

There are moments.

Points along the paths of completely separate lives. Conjunctions. Synchronicities. Meetings of circumstances, of situations, of desires.

Unexpected connections that cannot be explained or analysed. A union of minds. A merging of longing. A combination. A bond. An affinity.

Sometimes they reach across a dance floor, an office, a crowded street, a bar, a cafe, the last train home.

Sometimes they cross oceans, cultures, generations and continents.

There are moments.

They may mean everything. Or nothing. Or some unfathomable space in between.

But if we do not grasp them, they are gone.

Forever.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez

Posted almost exactly three years ago, and annually since. Usually appropriate.

 

Perhaps one day

 

I have her beauty hard-wired into me

I have known it forever.

My first school boy fantasies were of her. She has never changed. The same hair, eyes, mouth, chin, nose. The same height, weight, posture and stance. The same shoulders, breasts, hips, arse and thighs.

The same mix of swagger and vulnerability, of shyness and chatter, of independence and submission, of contemplation and fun

Her beauty is burned into my soul.

And I have found her

and owned her.

Once, twice, even three times.

Almost.

Never.

I keep believing. Although my time here is running out.

Perhaps one day ….

.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Harding Meyer

This is not new. I posted it two years ago, and a year ago. But indulge me.

 

Quietly pretend

 

I will quietly pretend

she is mine.

 

Her beauty

her body

her hair,

the sway

of her hips,

the laughter

the fun

the intelligence

in her eyes.

 

I will quietly pretend

she is mine.

 

It will not

bring her closer

but it will

just for a moment

make me believe

in paradise.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Gianni Strino

 

Walks this earth

There is a woman.

She walks this earth.

I have not met her, although I once came close. I have barely seen her, though glimpses have thrilled me. I have never spoken to her, although I swear I can hear her sweet accent in my head. And in my dreams.

I do not know her perfume but her scent thrills me. I have not touched her but can almost feel her skin beneath my finger tips. I have not looked into her eyes, but feel light-headed at the thought.

I have not owned her, but the hunger to do so consumes me.

There is a woman.

She walks this earth.

.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Whitaker

I wrote this three years ago. It has been plagiarised at least four times, once by a woman who reversed the point of view. I suppose I should take it as a compliment (except I hate thieves). I have always liked this post, and hope you will forgive the repost.

 

Under my wire

Without meaning to

without trying to

without wanting to

without planning to

without seeking to

and probably

without even knowing

you have slipped in

under my wire

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Francine van Hove

 

 

The Girl in the Photograph

The girl in the photograph

The girl in the photograph
is swagger and poise
shyness and hope
uncertainty and strength

The girl in the photograph
is desire and fear
softness and style
fantasy and real

The girl in the photograph
is hunger and joy
knowledge and warmth
rebellion and love

The girl in the photograph
is danger and sex
promise and dreams
intelligence and wild

The girl in the photograph
is not mine
but I wish
she was

.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

The photograph here is the stunning English actress Felicity Jones, and was taken by Mark Abrahams for GQ Magazine in 2014.
The poem is not about her or this photograph (though it is certainly about someone in a photograph) but she illustrates it well

This is not one of my new ones – I think I first posted it two years ago, but I hope you enjoy.

 

Lost Causes

I am not a man for lost causes.

Indeed I will barely even give chase.

I am not a hunter, a predator, a stalker.

I will not pursue relentlessly. I will not track hungrily. I will not chase regardless.

I will not follow that which has no desire to be caught.

I will not pen midnight poems to attract you, I will not write erotic fantasies to tempt you, I will not create dark, dangerous, delicious scenarios to seduce you.

No matter your sharp intelligence, your eloquent creativity, your breathtaking beauty, your sensual body, your sweet personality, your divine, submissive soul.

I am too proud, too arrogant, too aloof.

And most of all, too afraid of rejection.

I am not a man for lost causes.

But for you, rare, exotic, gorgeous creature

I might just make an exception.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Gianni Bellini

This is not new – written a year ago – but it deserves another outing

 

First sight

The moment I saw you

in that wild, dizzy, breathtaking, heart-stopping, vertigo-inducing, astonishing, intense, spectacular, awe-inspiring, incredible, stunning moment

I knew for certain

I will remember you forever

even if

in my entire life

I never see you again

.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo by Alexander Nesterov