Embodied
My heart shall break from desire. There ceases to be any stimulus in this world to my apparent knowledge that could possibly isolate and dissolve my feelings for him. If I am true to myself, I am not certain that I am even embodied in Earth any longer, as when he enfolds me in his arms he shines the light on the entrance to a new utopian world, where he and I shall roam through fields of gold for all eternity.
Time no longer exists. The stars flitter through the sky like drops of silver paint, and are then demolished by the cutting of the dark satin behind as dawn approaches, and yet I do not notice. My heart surreptitiously beats without my consent when those blue pools gaze into mine and send me shooting into an apocalypse of enduring joyfulness.
The blue pools remain serene and tranquil as I watch them, forevermore enveloping me in their aura of hypnotic amour. They cease to darken, remaining consistently soft like a feather-down quilt, rolling out all of the qualities to encase my body in his capture, yet trapping all that revolves around he and I in the world.
The porcelain smooth face travels as I trace the contours of the cheekbones that reach up high towards the perfectly straight lines of hair that fringe the blue pools. My fingers feel unwelcome to be touching such holy and beautiful ground, for we are trespassing and I cannot deny my sinful feelings that I want this ground to be mine forever. Plump and ripe, a human pursuing an apple’s quality of temptation, his lips entice me into closer proximity, drawing closer to his figure that releases light into the darkness.
Once again the unworthy fingers voyage away from the high-rising cheekbones, south in pursuit of this paradise, and they brush their unworthiness across this Holy Land. As always, the inevitably of knowing that this paradise shall encompass me in a short time makes me procrastinate, for I know that I am promised this and, therefore, I can afford to study this figure and travel each contour that I may encounter.
With reluctance I refrain from the temptation, and I simply stare in admiration at the delight that is being bestowed upon my eyes. No crevice ruptures the translucent pearly white skin that clings tightly to the frame, clinging on tightly in fear of being lost; for this work is both treasured and precious an article.
Why, not one soul could permit me to release this wonder from my grasp. In truth, my heart could not withstand it. Upon conquering my guilt of such an unworthy fool such as I being irrevocably besotted with this relic, I am now floating high above the stars, breaching the darkness that so strongly blocked my path in life before; for my fingertips are now brushing the world whilst my frame is cradled inside his protective grasp.
By Eleanor Trent
Picture ©butler.corey
Time no longer exists. The stars flitter through the sky like drops of silver paint, and are then demolished by the cutting of the dark satin behind as dawn approaches, and yet I do not notice. My heart surreptitiously beats without my consent when those blue pools gaze into mine and send me shooting into an apocalypse of enduring joyfulness.
The blue pools remain serene and tranquil as I watch them, forevermore enveloping me in their aura of hypnotic amour. They cease to darken, remaining consistently soft like a feather-down quilt, rolling out all of the qualities to encase my body in his capture, yet trapping all that revolves around he and I in the world.
The porcelain smooth face travels as I trace the contours of the cheekbones that reach up high towards the perfectly straight lines of hair that fringe the blue pools. My fingers feel unwelcome to be touching such holy and beautiful ground, for we are trespassing and I cannot deny my sinful feelings that I want this ground to be mine forever. Plump and ripe, a human pursuing an apple’s quality of temptation, his lips entice me into closer proximity, drawing closer to his figure that releases light into the darkness.
Once again the unworthy fingers voyage away from the high-rising cheekbones, south in pursuit of this paradise, and they brush their unworthiness across this Holy Land. As always, the inevitably of knowing that this paradise shall encompass me in a short time makes me procrastinate, for I know that I am promised this and, therefore, I can afford to study this figure and travel each contour that I may encounter.
With reluctance I refrain from the temptation, and I simply stare in admiration at the delight that is being bestowed upon my eyes. No crevice ruptures the translucent pearly white skin that clings tightly to the frame, clinging on tightly in fear of being lost; for this work is both treasured and precious an article.
Why, not one soul could permit me to release this wonder from my grasp. In truth, my heart could not withstand it. Upon conquering my guilt of such an unworthy fool such as I being irrevocably besotted with this relic, I am now floating high above the stars, breaching the darkness that so strongly blocked my path in life before; for my fingertips are now brushing the world whilst my frame is cradled inside his protective grasp.
By Eleanor Trent
Picture ©butler.corey