bookssland.com » Romance » Slight touch - E. A. (psychology books to read txt) 📗

Book online «Slight touch - E. A. (psychology books to read txt) 📗». Author E. A.



1 2 3 4 5 6
Go to page:
the wind in the desert,

free to live throughout our desire,

to wander through the realm of lust,

to become one with the elusive flame,

the one that ignites and feeds life.

 

Pictures

Ice cold droplets on rosebuds

fated to die under the first frost,

an untended garden lost in time,

a house blurred in the fog,

hours rushing to their swift end,

unopened books inviting dust,

a sun struggling pitifully to rise,

a moon declining its own light,

crystals shattered on old stones,

ashes gathering in misty winds,

all telling the bittersweet story

of a thwarted old love affair,

lost in the darkest folds of the mind.

 

Odd timing

She looked at him in awe

and saw her past revisited,

she looked at him hopefully

and saw her uncertain future.

He just looked at her intently

and saw only the present.

And it is now, years later,

she lives only in the present

while he thinks of their past

and still regrets not finding her

in his bright, promising future.

 

Paradoxes

Time and gardens

go together,

love and roses

go together

crystals and rain

go together,

fireplaces and Winter

also go together…

We, on the other hand,

shared time in gardens,

enjoyed love and roses,

loved raindrops on crystals,

cuddled near the fireplace

in cold, ice-cold Winters,

and yet, sadly enough,

we are no longer together.

 

Tribute

I found in your body,

traces of other climaxes,

other skins and moans,

madness and pain mingled.

I found fading echoes

of women willingly trapped

in the allure of your demands.

I inhaled the powerful scent

of rampant desire struggling

for chain-breaking release.

I saw not only you

but the countless others,

I heard their soft sighs

and your name strangling

their fragile collared throats.

I saw them die in orgasms

to revive under your cold gaze,

looking in vain for some love.

I saw them building houses,

houses of sweet domestic bliss,

doomed to fall onto shifting sands.

They didn´t know you at all;

naive like moths near a flame

they built around you a story,

a story pitied by the gods,

a story mocked by spectres.

I saw it all and yet I lost myself

in the intricate garden of your mind,

throwing fears to the whims of life,

while willingly paying homage

in the power-hungry temple of your body.

 

Findings

Just the sanding of the years

on a wall still firm and strong,

just the flaking here and there,}

while TIme smiles and goes on.

Just a few more marks and lines

on a surface still quite smooth,

while events unfold and fade,

while peace and turmoil meet

and love and desire rub elbows

with the paleness of dying seconds.

 

My Valentine

Even if other arms claim you in lust,

even if the trace of your passions

still lingers in other beds, other rooms,

in cities lost in labyrinths of memory.

Even it the portals of your playful heart

have opened to multiple affections,

stories fueled by pain and also desire,

even if the caresses of unforgiving Time

slowly cover your once worshipped body,

wrapping your limbs in elusive immortality

.I will still celebrate your very existence,

I will still keep the finest red rose for you,

you are and will always be my Valentine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

t

 

 

 

t

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

 

Imprint

Text: Elizabeth Aldam
Images: Elizabeth Aldam
Cover: Elizabeth Aldam
Editing: Elizabeth Aldam
Proofreading: Elizabeth Aldam
Translation: Not applicable. It is in the original language
Layout: Elizabeth Aldam
Publication Date: 04-06-2021

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
In memory of a young man I met once. This young man walked among crowds as if nothing mattered but his own zest to make the best of each day. In celebration of his existence and the precious time shared.

1 2 3 4 5 6
Go to page:

Free e-book «Slight touch - E. A. (psychology books to read txt) 📗» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment