Faster. Closer. Tougher. Uncontrollable. Painful. Love. All these are shallow shadows of your faded sound of liberation that are mystifying my closed soul of many massacres. Mystifying through destruction. In order to achieve construction. Destruction of the closeness and construction of the openness. And you, dear passion of eternal youth in your true excellence, you are using your bareness to trigger that destruction. To open my closed soul through your domination of my senses. Through your control over my senses. The perfection and sensuality of your bareness is so powerful that its materialization is making my concept impose limits to my materialization. And there was nothing in this world that would ever limit my concept. There is no such material that could achieve this. There was no such control and domination that could play with my savage thirst of ravishment. You should have been tight up in black stripes of your inner ropes. You should have been restrained to your red. You should have been screaming the sound of your own liberation through your exaggerated pleasure. You should have witnessed your own asphyxiation. You should have scratched my black name at the bottom of your holy grail of eternal passion. My black name in your red of fears should have been drowning into the painful dark of our framed conceptualization. Into your tears of red distilled from the mist of your liberation waves. Into your true happiness. Or is this my true happiness? Or is the mirror of shades cursing our love into opposing materializations and conceptualization ? And in our moment of true blending, the passion was unbearable. Terrifying. Incomparable. Exquisite. Singular. New. Our persistent bond that is sustaining my submission to your domination of joy is like a vortex. I cannot escape it. Your passion has made me submit my concept to the joy and not to my eternal pain of happiness. And the vortex is leading my transgression to the joy. To the beautifulness. But my inner grail of creation is bonded forever to pain. I crave the pain and transform it into happiness. Not anymore. One root in the yin of pain and one root in the yang of happiness. Perfect balance of conceptual explosiveness. Your youthful joyfulness is rooting into my black. Into my pain. Into my damaged engine of happiness and pleasure. The singularity of my nightly bonding of romance is opening into shivers of happiness. Opening into ropes and stripes of tender touches of the soul. Opening into immersive kisses of addictive scents of love. Opening into restraints of pure trust and eternal truthfulness of the spirit. Opening into heart touching whispers of lasting memories. Your youthful joyfulness that is rooting into my black is opening all my closed concept. Terrifying. Challenging. (©OAS2014) https://youtube/watch?v=MY4YJxn-9Og
Posted on: Mon, 15 Dec 2014 21:54:00 +0000