I Have No Words, Only Fragmented And Agonized Desire
Previous - this entry written on May 01, 2002 at 5:29 pm - Next


Dancing dreaming spinning and then down, ever always down...

I can recall fragments of the erotic vision that pounded and sweated its way through my thoughts this morning, bits and pieces of what was something so delicious I woke up hungry and hopeful, needing, wanting, craving...

somewhere inside my thoughts there is a hint of the obscene, more than a hint even, sullen whispering behind half-closed doors, the sound of flesh against flesh, the gleam of leather left slick from tears and saliva and even blood...

I can�t remember how it started, I can�t remember how it ended, I can only remember brief glimpses of heat, the noises that are as familiar as breathing, sweet sounds making me lick my lips, his lips, tasting the aftermath of sex that I know I had only imagined...

it draws mee deep into myself, this dreamquest, making me doubt the reality of the world around me and gifting me with the certainty that if I could just remember a few minutes more, if I could just grasp the hazy memories and drag them closer, let them find strength and blossom into something solid, that I would be left laughing with pleasure, near-drowning in the overwhelming joy that comes with watching and feeling such beautiful things...

I remember thinking that it would be so easy to shift my fingers like ~this~, to put my mouth ~there~, to speak a few slow words and touch and move, ~move~, until my ears were filled with moaning and whimpering and oh gods, begging, it�s been so long since I�ve heard someone truly, properly beg for the pain and the pleasure and the unending torment that I long to give...

my mind is clouded still, plans for tonight blending with hopes I had tried to push away, fantasies of lust and the arousal that only comes with another�s submission shifting, spinning, and finally tangling with my expectations for the evening and my barely-verbalized prayers...

I want, I crave, and although I know that this, like all the other times when the rush of desire and the hunger for such tantalizing deeds has flooded me, this too will pass, and yet right now it only builds, never cresting, never peaking, never the final release and reverse that comes with time or with climax...

this, then, is how I find my life balanced � I find a way to escape the physical pain that plagues me so often and in trade, the desperation and the flush of lust is enough to leave me trembling, growling, pacing within the confines of my mind, testing the walls I have built there, so frustrated...

so hungry...

as always, I want what I cannot, at the moment, have; it only makes it worse that there are so many almosts, so many laters, so many not-nows and not-like-thats that make me want to scream...

how do I explain the importance of this to someone who doesn�t believe in it at all?

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