This is racy so my apologies, but racy has a reason. I have been married twice. The first time, I was a teenager and strapped to a bed seven times and beaten. That is no secret, I wrote two books on my PAST and have lectured for years to help those trapped as I was during that period. My second marriage was a SAFE marriage in exchange for me looking good in a bikini and him not hitting me. Once when I was traveling for my MatchMaker business and enjoying dinner, an elderly lady exited the table next to me to visit the lady’s room. After she left, her husband turned to me and confessed they were celebrating their fiftieth anniversary and he was clueless as to what to gift her after all those years. Only if I live to be 110 will I celebrate such an accomplishment. When his wife returned to the table, I asked the waiter for paper and weeping, I penned what I imagined it would feel like to have someone love you that much that long. I do not remember what I wrote that day, I only remember them crying and thanking me. My good friends Sid and Claire just celebrated 27 years of bliss.( I LOVE how he looks at her when she enters a room. Every man should look at his wife that way.) I wrote this for them and every couple who forgets and needs to remember. May you ALL gaze upon your beloved as if the first time when love was young. GRACEFUL SILHOUETTES As the moon sneaks behind the nomadic clouds and stars break twilight, an enthralling Beloved and her courtly love weave heartbeat into the embroidery of epoch, casting luminosity across infinity. Through a soft veil laced of French, he gazes upon his beloved slowly undressing as she grooms for formal attire awaiting a pleasured evening of melody, feast, and champagne, popped by celebration of life flourished and endured. Her pristine silhouette is as divine as when first they fell in love – almost angelic, as she gracefully glides across the room like a swan across a moonlit pond. Her porcelain face glows as she sits at her vanity, brushing her sleek, long hair: front – to - back, side – to – side, flipping it back and over as she gently massages her scalp, revealing her long graceful neck and delicate shoulders. Seductively, like the swan she moves: the curvature of her spine stretching as she folds her long slender arms like a delicate origami, neatly placing her hair in a twist high atop her head. Waking and sleeping, her very breath controls the rhythm of his every dream, mood and desire. The simply flow of her velvety body mesmerizes him immensely: shifting, pausing … head bowed, shoulders softening while arms stretch toe to thigh. Arched on the balls of her delicate feet she fastens the garter holding her sheer black stockings – her elongated legs elegantly extending – revealing the lustrous thighs he passionately awaits to wrap around the thick of his neck. Scorching blood sprints throughout every pulsating vein … vibrating every nerve in his body yearning the embracing of the angelic figure his eyes adore as he waits to revere every inch of she who cast the spell. Sweat drips off his brow, down his parched throat, and into his knotted stomach - flickering with the wings of butterflies aflutter. His thirsty spirit drinks, his heart alive quivers as visions of ecstasy fill the rhythm of his desire. In the shadow of his longings, a throbbing heat with an inexpressible agony births a profound ache that is slowly rising towards and between his thighs. He watches … mesmerized by the essence that, once upon a time, when life was young, weaved from cotton to silk body and soul and All of the channels of their spirit nurtured each pulsating presence while love seduced the path of virtue awaiting life’s entwining fabric to stitch the delicate strings of heart. Even in the autumn of their love, fresh wonder of selflessness carve the contour of their love gold as they perceive the twisting and turning of life cascading through weathered stitches weaved with eternity. He watches, stunningly mesmerized, graciously soaring … deeply bowing his head in gratitude. Life: her life, his life, their lives still blissfully blend with that one zealous fabric of time when their bodies in the wake of play became one and weaved a rapture beyond forbidden lust: Carnal embracing … Self-insulting … Life expressing love, love-expressing life as they succumbed to the plea of passion’s embrace. Their souls fluttering like a linnet in the cages of their pores, floating through the cast scaffolds of ecstasy, they glided like graceful swans across the infinite corridors of time. He watches his beloved, and waits behind soft veils of lace. Silently watching, painfully growing. He waits. He watches. Mesmerized. Soaring! Moving up and down her legs, the very fingers fastening the garter became the passage to young seduction’s dream: heaven meeting earth, earth standing still, their breath becoming one, one becoming all, all becoming eternity, eternity meeting heaven fastening the garter…. gliding … floating - life … time … his life … her life … their life. The explosion going everywhere, spray after spray of wonderful waterfall; her sweetness saturating the well of life from which love drew when, once upon a time, their bodies met, and they became one – in body and in soul. Their worlds shuttered, life stood still, and love glided like graceful swans across the infinite corridors of time. In his current field of vision, he does not know why he is always so mesmerized watching her do such simple things, like getting ready for an evening affair, as if watching her for the first time. Maybe because he knows she primps and pampers, powders and creams because she cares for him – her gallant Love who once upon a lifetime seduced a Beloved and intricately weaved cotton to silk body and soul. Her eyes illuminate when she sees his gaze through the soft veils. As sentiency begins to intensify, intoxicated with need and desire, she shimmers and shakes when his fingers glide across her velvety body pouring so elegantly into her evening attire. Flickering with wings of butterflies aflutter, he brings his hands around her long graceful neck and delicate shoulders, unzips her dress of silken threads, and slowly watching it crumble at their feet, his kisses glide her naked back as he lowers her into a soft nest of carnal … painfully, silently longing to be embraced. They vigorously exhale… their hungry eyes let go their home… they perceive not the chimes of the massive pendulum of iron telling them it is time for melody, feast and celebration of champagne for its swing know not their desires, and hears not the beating of their hearts. His mouth fills her lips … faint in stillness as her eyelids crumble and close, floating through the vast scaffolds of ecstasy … naturally … comfortably: Lover and Beloved, one in body, one in soul weaved by fabric stitched of time. The long awaited evening of melody, feast, and champagne can wait while wonderfully alone they bow in gratitude to reminiscence blessed, and infinity desired. Their love cascades as her body becomes his resting shrine, and he drinks from the sweetness that feeds his parched throat. He gently slides into her and she, in all of her surrender, melts like twilight into dawn. Controlled not by pendulum of iron, they glide like swans across the infinite corridor of love and their souls flutter like linnets in the cages of their pores, blending into graceful silhouettes veiled not by lace of French. For the LOVELY Swan Claire and her Beloved Sid
Posted on: Thu, 13 Mar 2014 05:57:22 +0000
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