Playing with My Words


I could go on and on about something sensual. 
I could fill your mind with thoughts of seduction and extravagant descriptions of some imaginary figure, but just as soon as your skin turns red, the illusion you desire would be gone. 

You see, the sumptuous words slowly roll over my lower lip and dribble down my chin as though my mouth were numb from novocain.
Each syllable somehow leaves a saccharin taste on my tongue like an artificially sweetened wine. The taste of the imagined liquor leaves me drunk.

Perhaps, I could inject your dreams with venom and leave you feverish in your sleep. Your body would jerk and sweat as you hallucinate. Demons would haunt you as they claw at you and tear your skin, 
but my desires are too pure for that. 

I do not wish to string together words that would drag you down to hell with me and leave you trapped in darkness. 

No. Instead, I wish to bring you peace: I want you to know calm.
The sun shines through a tree whose branches are lush and full of green. 
A gentle breeze, a faint smell of rain. The day quietly transitions into night as the full moon climbs into the sky. The soft blue glow of the moon's light blankets the earth.




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