ForgottenBreath
Posts: 16
Joined: 1/20/2004 Status: offline
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The night fades into bleak morning hours A soft ringing draws me from my dreams The phone is drawn near my ear Your voice like a beacon pulling me from fantasy to reality Even in these morning hours when my voice is husky and deep with sleep You want me, You torment me Wicked promises push me right back into fantasy It is an odd dance, slipping between the worlds Real and fake, promises and threats, wanting and elusive Every word uttered pushes me in and out Drawing me close yet keeping me at bay my hands become Yours, Your hands travel me pinching, pulling, twisting my body writhing in sweet agony while You listen Whimpers, pleas, sobs falling from dry lips i cry for You, i moan and scream Your hands, or mine moving under controlled influence carrying me away towards the pinnacle of desire Shivering form captured in the rapture of release Every morning we share these moments Each seeming more real to me than the previous day A bug caught in a spiders web, exhausted from fighting i am unable to ignore the phone and get better rest It's the early morning hours once more.... my dreams are sweet and lure me into heaven And in the distance there is a sound pulling me The phone ringing upon it's cradle like a flame for a moth.
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"Care not what others think, the truth inside is what matters, and be not afraid to be who you are, no matter the cost or humilty you must face." -=<x>=- breath -=<x>=-
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