This is a work of fantasy. It is not about real people, and if
it is, its not what they would do. (not that you are likely to know them
anyway). If you are under 18, go away, since I don’t like to get in trouble.
If you are turned off by perversion, what are you doing at asstr? In other
words, go away. If none of this applies to you, great! Read on! Have fun!
Let me know
what you like!
Oh, and I work hard on my writing…so guess what? Its mine.
That’s right boys and girls…its copyrighted…so if you want it? Just ask-
we’ll talk.
Dryad
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Wandering Through Rows
Wandering through rows
of ancient stones in a meadow.
"Here lies"
someone's name destroyed by time.
"December 6, 1763"
The vision comes to me
of lovers entwined
amongst the high grass, stones and sun.
The ultimate paradox:
of life being made
in a place of death.
Resistance
Stand on a beach.
Waves lapping my toes.
My arms held-
open.
The ocean begins to churn.
A voice cries out,
“Resist! Resist!”
But resistance is futile.
The waves drown it out.
Silencing it.
I feel the waves of my own passion; longing
toss me about
until I feel myself
drowning--
drowning
into you.
Fruit Flavored Lips
Fruit flavored lips
touch mine.
The arms
that encircle me
seem to whisper,
“I will cherish forever.”
Slowly,
warmth spreads through me
like a tropical sun.
Fruit flavored lips
touch yours.
The arms
that encircle you
cry,
“Please, don’t let go.”
Slowly, the tropical sun sets
(Like it always must)
But the warmth is still there.
Yearning
Yearning,
heat making a clear glow on my skin;
a sheen of desire.
Wishing, wanting
needing you
Now.
with a force
comparable to a hurricane, or tornado.
My body moves-
torturously
with a will of its own.
and I wish I could slow
and still the aching.
The Shower
I feel the heat
run down my face.
the path your hands made
I feel the water trace.
The steam billows
as I wish you were here
Holding me close,
whispering in my ear.
I want to feel
your warm caress.
I’ll let your mind
Figure out the rest.
The shower
does funny things to your mind.
It makes me feel as though
you were right by my side.
The Scent
The scent of you is engrained
within every pore of my skin.
I breathe deeply,
and taste you on my fingers.
Memories that water cannot wash away.
Absolution doesn’t exist in this plane,
this place.
It goes away,
unneeded.
The Deepest Dark of Night
In the deepest dark of night,
I found a broken man.
His heart and mind were torn,
his reality crashed around him.
In the deepest dark of night,
I learned the healing quality
of a touch; a kiss; a breath;
a listening ear.
In the deepest dark of night,
a joining of bodies; spirits
and in the breaking dawn,
I see before me a man reborn.
Kingdom
A breath
whispered
softly.
A mist
arises
in our small
exclusive kingdom.
I sigh
breathing deeply
the scent.
Burning for the memories
unwilling to forget.
Memorize the feel
the touch of your hand on my face,
your breath against my skin.
And that final feeling
of being home.
Only to be torn
like an infant from a mother’s womb
and shocked by the cold
harsh breath of reality.
Never to know the warm safe comfort again.
Copyright Dryad ([email protected]) 1991-2001