Raising Eros

[Charlie]

Buenos;
dias / tardes / noches.
I'll be letting a few snippets from my blogs run a stray in this section.
I'm curious to look upon the feedback it recives.

Colorless Colour

I think at this point, you might as well be sucking the edge of the clock's greater hand. All I do is dwindle between the hours, breathing in between the moments of expecting your belated knock on this door. As time elapses, I understand that others might have been correct about this curl of a situation. I have no abstinence for playing Venus's game. I cling to her open shell, wondering if she'll take me in as herself, or cast me out as being nothing but lust.

Your open mouth has no words for me left uncalculated. I study your movements as if your choreography is open for the public to critique its display. The inches you pace tell me that you know nothing but innocence. But I sense an abyss beyond that grip of sunshine of a mind. Everything I've sought a year ago hangs above you. The little bits in humans that I cherish, lingers within you. But at this point, the counsel of my cynicism gives me notice that there's nothing of me beyond you, either.

Summer hasn't even been laid down to rest.
Yet, in spite of radiance; I sleep shadowless.

No wonder I'm scared to look in your eyes. I feel an absurd little heat grab my soul and tell me that I should be more afraid of falling. You must have had countless others throw yourself on this same, shining ribbon of a road of yours. From what we've seen, with mine eyes - You know no attraction. I remember that day when I tripped in spite of alleged grace, and came tumbling down a short hill. You were casual in coming to my side, and looked below at me. There might have actually been no distinction between the earth's sky and the shade of your eyes that day.

It isn't necessarily nonchalance. But I still can't help but feeling that everything I find and show for your eyes amounts to nothing. I understand that oath to abandonment that you hide behind your hands. I only question if that same oath applies to that natural sweetness that surrounds your heart. You leave me in a quiet, little rage, sir. Lately, it feels as if you wish to leave that troublesome embrace astray.

That night,
I swore I felt the remnants of brilliant color prickling
beneath these pores, these roots I call skin.

I hide no emotion in front of you. Those before you would simply laugh at these silly attempts to forge tieing a smile on your lips. You haven't yet left me breathless in the wind you leave. Yet I still feel a similar heat rising inside to meet the childish flame tongues flickering behind your eyes. Your pace in these events leaves me to question everything. Every moment I give to my mind to cradle in time. Every chuckle I give to these frozen pavements that lie dormant..beneath my memories.

My new friend,
I have no problem with painting your name each day on my lips.

Broken China

I stared at the bottom of the table in silence. Also staring, was an obscure, opaque, decently beautied woman. Hair busied in several different directions, make up from emptied eyes dripping from my cheeks to my stomach. Lips, sewn shut. Frame, leaning into an image of a pretty picture slowly fading into the smudges of the marble table.

I felt my heart ripping itself out of its bed of veins. Churning, roaring, knowing only sound. The sunlight penetrated the vulnerable spots on my neck and on the left side of my face. Exposing my fear, dripping posture, faltered elegance..showing new innocence. I tried to press my eye lids together, in hopes that he wouldn't examine this mess of a soul. The Earth sat still beneath my feet, blanketed in a shaggy warmth of royal carpet. Now scarred with a memory of my body lain beneath his on the rigid spirals tightly sewn on the material circling with my imprint on this dirty floor.

I had been ravaged.
I am a fool to not have accepted it.

I danced with the dragon, sworn a kiss to what I thought to an angel, and received a half winged demon pushing skin against skin. The air had been thick with the sounds of our chuckling and chorus of panting into a hollow night. Heated mid summer aroma packed our skin not only a few feet away from the dining room table. My mind raced with thoughts of, "Let him wait, or let him go." Yet my body raged with fanged, half bitten responses such as, "Let him take, or let him run." My senses foamed over with sporadic, gradual, long strikes of direct ecstasy. I pressed my heart into his while the same beat of him was pressed beyond my stomach.

I whispered..
"You ask, and you shall receive."

The dusted pink of his lips cracked into a smile and replied with, "Even if you are God, my dear woman, you are still only nothing but that if you let anyone who prays to take you."

I felt a stone drop beneath my chest. A cold, dark fragment of faithful understanding. I still felt the limbs of my body lay exposed under this new creature. Dress hiked above my thighs, stocking's destroyed, jewelry strewn, corset and chastity fastenings to my bosom left...obsolete. My skin prickled with the remnants of his lips pressed to them, muscles massaged against their counterparts, reproductive organs aching from being touched.

Within short hours, I felt his body rise with the sounds of armor clinging, jewels intertwining, leather scratching, breaths gasping into dimming afternoon sunshine. The pressure of his bones leaving mine felt anything less than similar from a child being picked from its cradle. It soothes itself into bliss when held, it screams in ache and demand upon rejection.

I damn myself to combine masochism with knowing.

The spiced scent of his collected valuables returned to him when he arrived at the table minutes later, hours that felt like fluttering eternities. He fancied himself a luke warm cup of tea from in front of him, and drunk deeply before relaxing his esophagus and staring over at me.

I was a star of a strewn woman, on the uncaring, endless material of sky on carpeted floor.


"Anything more than this..isn't going to work."

[Essence of Elegy]

It's kinda annoying to see decent literature go unnoticed or unappreciated like this. Too many avid readers, not enough avid writers.

This is actually quite spectacular. I wanna what else you can come up with.