Tag Archives: passion

The Shower

He lay on his side in the bed, upper torso almost naked, wrapped in the sheets, scrolling on his phone. Straightening herself from unpacking, she walked over to where he was.

“I’ll go take a shower first.”

In response, he reached out and pulled her into bed and his arms. She gasped as she landed in his encircling warmth.

“I haven’t showered in a day… that’s unacceptable… I need to take a shower.”

“Okay… go shower.”

He loosened his embrace and for a moment she was uncaged. She remained where she was, gazing into his face, and his lips, corners curled in a slight smile.

Then, she leaned over and kissed him on his mouth, feeling the soft bristles above his upper lip as his tongue met hers and his lower lip, full against hers.

His arms came around her again as he smiled at her surprised gasp.

“You’ve had your chance.”

And then they were inseparable.

His arms were around her, maybe hers around him then… were his lips on hers or did they rove down her neck? She might have trailed her moist tongue down his chest, breathing warmth as she went…

Like each time in the past, she could not remember.

All she remembered that afternoon was the window was all along open, behind the facade of white curtains. And she blushed when he teased her about how everyone would have heard.

She could not remember.
But she would not forget.

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The Bachata – Part Three

As the music began, she drew him in, feeling his breath on her cheek.

“Come closer a little.”

His hand was travelling down her body, coming to rest at the small concave low at her back. She gasped at the sensation of his fingers on her skin; it brought back memories from so long ago that she thought she had left behind.

And as they danced, each move was a step back in time, each gaze a stronger stirring in their souls, and each turn closer to sweet destruction.

That dance filled the whole room, so much that everything had to melt away. All she could hear was the poignant beauty of the song in her blood; all she could feel were his hands on her skin and his breath on her lips.

He had that look in his eyes, that same desirous look of fever and wild that she remembered. The rhythm was pounding in her ears now, and all she knew was how perfectly their movements connected her to him and him her.

It was as if they had never parted, and the bachata plays, timeless.

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The Bachata – Part Two

She stood before him and he caught the scent of her perfume in her hair. Leaning in with his lips close at her ear, he spoke in a low voice.

“Do you know that you are the most beautiful here?”

“What do you mean?”

She could feel her face flushing and his intent gaze on her.

“Simply that you are the most interesting, elegant and beautiful woman.”

“Do you want to dance with me now?”

Before she could answer, he had taken her hand in his and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Still blushing, she draped hers around his neck. An upbeat percussion rhythm began and the musicians took the cue.

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Daily Prompt: Thwart

Sundays are meant
To be slow and sultry
Tousled thoughts and
Late-up sheets.

Unfortunately, I’m working.

Or is it? 🙂

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For

Words inspired by Peter Adewumi‘s post.

(Photo location: Vlissingen, The Netherlands)

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On Passion: Some Ramblings

I usually don’t ramble on blogposts, because I enjoy privacy. The topic of passion, however, which surfaced with exceptional frequency recently is close to heart and demands release.

I have a lot of fire in my nature, too much perhaps. Passion to me, thus, is a channeling of that fire towards various interests in life, one of which is of course, writing, and am fortunate enough to enjoy it both as profession and passion.

Passion is that unseen force that ignites one’s soul, inspires one’s beliefs, and drives one’s actions. I cannot imagine how I lived those years when I had not known this fire.

Yet, like all fires, passion needs to be handled carefully lest it consumes us too fast; I too am still learning to moderate and achieve balance with a constant fervour that’s not too overpowering.

I encourage everyone, anyone who is reading this to delve into your self – what do you truly live for? What is it you seek in life? If you are not able to make it a full time enjoyment, find ways to have it part of your life, however little it might be. I believe you will find it has a marvellous effect on you. 🙂

Because one must live to truly live.

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Sonnet

I hate you.

I hate you for breaking down that
Dam that I had carefully built to
Hold back all those emotions that
Were – are – not needed.

I hate you for making me promise to
Love you always, if God so ordains
To hold me – who has difficulty
Keeping even promises to myself –
To that promise I made for the
Love I have for you, no less.

I hate you for realising the
Impossibility of us finally, then
Leave me in the lurch of our devices
Drowning in all this love gushing
Blood-red, out of my veins.

I hate you for saying I shouldn’t
Be feeling this way, that I should have
A hold over this cuz you told me so
Because one cannot love to order.

I hate you for falling for another
Because you cannot fall for me
Because it hurts so much when
I am loving you still with a
Selfish, possessive love, for I am
Only human and incapable yet of
Unconditionally loving.

I hate you for this situation we are in
This “I don’t know what you are
To me” mode where I am living in
Limbo between feeling and unfeeling
Hold back and show, life and death.

I hate you for still having a hold
Over me, that despite everything
I can no longer leave you, God knows
How hard I tried and I hate myself
For feeling that way because hey,
I want to love you always right?

I hate you.

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