Sex is a potent potion.
It lures you in,
Dangle’s promises of release
Of connection
Of substance.
You don’t know what you’re missing
Until that spark begins to flicker.
Provoked.
The flames rise within you
The roar of fire burns
A raging hole
Through your patience.
And the good girl,
Dies
And from the ashes
Rises
A Siren.
With a searing song,
Radiant lust appeal
Oozing from her golden
Iris’.
What other can deny
The pull of her potent aura.
For she cares not if her partner is
The flesh of another,
Or the radiant connection
Of the divine spirit
That guides her from within.
The lighthouse of her own soul
Bringing her safely home.
Sex is a potent potion
It makes you lean in
And whisper your
Longings.
Uncertain
At times
Whether
Reciprocity
Is possible.
It calls you to yearn.
Brings you
Back to the burn.
As a reminder that life
Is a river
Constantly flowing
From a force of its own.
And we as individuals,
Have an opportunity
To connect
To sync
To see
To be
A part of its current.
For within that natural source of power
So too does our own fire burn.
And when we feel that current pull,
We must discern…
Is it time to surrender,
To submerge,
Into the power of that force?
To be swept up
And experience
The wash of lust
Over our silky silhouette…
Or is it time to resist?
To barricade against the force,
The one that seeks to penetrate
Sometimes punish.
For being
Someone of such substance
That the world can’t help but
Want to ravish.
There is a seemingly “fine line”
In the eyes of some men
Between torture
And rapture.
Whereas for a sacred femme
Sexual, sensual and whole,
There is only a world of difference between the two.
But those who know
The true potency of this potion,
Know that
Torture is a violation…
And rapture is sexual expression.
It’s art in motion.
An invitation to the divine partner
Ready to express
God
Through their devotion
To her ecstasy.
Sex is a potent potion.
If the vial is life
Then gold is her liquid.
P.S. Notes
What is there to say about this share?… Honestly, I’m not sure. I wrote this little number, sipping a gin martini, in a little black dress at a beachfront bar in El Salvador. It’s been a quiet year, sexually – intentionally. And I can’t help but feel like the less you want sex the more people want to have sex with you. What’s that all about?
Anyways, I’m over lack lustre connections to scratch an itch.
Intimacy is the bare necessity – for me.
Makes the filtration process easy.
In the words of Janne Robinson, I’m an expensive wine who requires you to take your time.
xx
