My Hearts Longing...

To live content with small means.
To seek elegance rather than luxury,
and refinement rather than fashion.

To be worthy, not respectable,
and wealthy, not rich.

To study hard, think quietly,
talk gently, act frankly.
To listen to stars and birds,
to babes and sages, with open heart.

To bear all cheerfully,
do all bravely, await occasions,

hurry never,

fear never, lie never

In a word, to let the spiritual,
unbidden and unconscious,

grow up through the common within me,

This is to be my symphony.

~William Henry Channing~

A conversation with an ex...

Anyone who knows me well, knows that I never ever write about s*x, it's just not my thing. But this just had to be said...



When I asked you the one question,
That’s possessed my mind since we ended,
‘What broke us?’

I was nestled in a cloud of passion,
Drained yet content, from hours together.
‘Promiscuity’, you said.

Until those words left your lips, I lay
Curled up in your arms, exhausted, blissful.
‘Promiscuity?!’

Our bodies still entwined together,
My head nestled comfortably on your chest.
I listened to your heartbeat.

‘Promiscuity, you say.’
I breathed in your delightful scent,
Light-headed from your delicious perfume.

‘I don’t wanna talk about it’ you said,
Then proceeded to kiss my neck,
Running your fingers down my back,
And marvelling at how much that excites me.

‘Um, actually. I wanna talk about it’
I murmured, trying to resist the heat
As your lips ignited a fire deep within me.

‘Please don’t start. We’ve had a perfect night.’
You said, circling my breast with your hands,
Your fingers tickling my belly, as they headed south.

I could feel tears threaten to betray me,
As I replayed the word in my head.
‘Promiscuity?’

The thought was drowned by your lips,
Pressing hard on mine, willing me to forget.
‘Guess what I’d like to do to you?’

I felt my brain separate from my body,
As I watched like a spectator, my body betraying me.
Passionately devouring you, burning with excitement.

Had I been a stronger individual, I would have
Shoved you off me, slapped you and kicked you out.
Promiscuity? Promi-bloody-scuity?

How dare you reduce what you did to me to that?
How dare you forget the way you hurt me?
How dare you?

I could faintly hear my brain condemning me,
‘How dare he? How dare You?’

I continued watching the scene, still a spectator.
When it comes to you, I’ve often felt like an addict,
Your body, my favourite drug.

Watching you climb onto me, breathing heavily
I welcomed you as I always have, delighted.
Feasting on my favourite drug.

‘I’ve really missed you’ you said,
Nibbling on my ear, delighted by my screams.
‘I’ve missed you too...’ I whispered.

We continued this magical dance,
You on top, then me, then you again.
‘I can never get enough of you’

Oh, how I loved to hear you say that,
Loved being the centre of your happiness.
As you explored the centre of mine.

Later, as you lay resting beside me,
I sat staring into the darkness.
Silently revisiting our earlier conversation.

‘What’s on your mind’ you asked.
‘Oh, nothing much. I just realised
That the word ‘promiscuity’
Rhymes perfectly with ‘stupidity’