This Flow of Words


ID-100169894

The words flow

as if from a tap.

A wellspring

which has

sprung.

~~
The more

I write,

the more

easily

the words

flow.

~~

From my

fingertips,

to my lips,

the irritation

if I cannot

express,

or try to

suppress

the words

that flow

from

someplace

I now know.

~~

Last year,

I had to

crank and

crank the

pump handle

to get

but a few

drips.

One

at

a

time.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The trickle

barely enough

to tickle

my fancy.

Certainly

never enough

to wet

my whistle.

~~~

Now like a geyser,

the words rise

up out of me.

I cannot

seem to stop.

Nor do I want

to stop

this

flow

of

words.

Namaste.

The Seduction (mature)

ID-100105218

In my dreams, day or night,
You call out to me.

In my mind, in my thoughts,
You play.

If I ignore you,
You press me further.

Submitting brings me peace,
You show me the way.

Removing each piece of clothing, bit by bit,
You command me to reveal myself.

Pressing me further and further each time,
You peel off more layers.

Vulnerable and bare naked,
You revel in my truth.

Just when I feel my limit is reached,

You take me further into the void.

From my fingertips,
You flow.

From my lips,
You form sounds.

In your trust I place myself,
You nare disappoint.

With each word I write,
You reveal to me more of myself.

I am grateful for the words,
You, my muse.

Namaste.

Photo by adamr at freedigitalphotos.net

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