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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Spiritual · #1728386
An ode to Women
She kissed him goodbye and watched him walk away, her chest filled with such pride as he headed upwards towards the height, she felt the glares too, those shame filled arrows from his so-called friends.

She sat there and watched him all morning, marveling at his self control, so many times she’d wondered “how does he do it” and she remembered the day they met, the power of his touch, the calmness of his demeanor and her disbelief to remain by his side.

She bore the hot sun as it rose towards it‘s zenith now, head covered by the shawl of his gift, immersed in reverie’s of their nights together, flowing through her head, minds eye images of massaging away the stiffness in his aching limbs, the knotted muscles of his neck, his shoulders and stomach, as implicit memories of sensual sensations moved her hands beneath her robe, and remembered sensations of oil and sweat filled her nose.

She tried alas, unsuccessfully again to banish these long reverie’s of their lustful passions, remaining unconvinced such thoughts are sin. Each day now, warm sensations of delight sustained her energies through these increasingly hot and longer times, and each passing day she felt a rising frustration at his continued giving and their endless, clawing demands.

‘These people will drain every last drop of you, my love,’ she’d told him only 3 days ago.

She watched him closely, watched him move his toes in the dirt adjusting his feet as he grounded himself in earth and sand, watched him deliberately flex his tummy muscles to air locked tight, and noticed how he braced his shoulders to command the height. She remembered how he’d spoken of this height as some kind of flight, told her his thoughts on the Icarus legend, how his mind felt like a high soaring kite, his head and heart feeling hot like the sun, with sensations boiling inside a heart felt mind, “up there,” he said, he felt like an eagle, soaring on high, with such miraculous sight.

She knew how much it drained him though, how much he paid a price, feeding these hungry children, who clambered so, for his comfort, his words and advice, yet now though, she increasingly swore quietly inside, “what they really want is magic, such lazy swine, who like hungry hyena’s will devour him, in time.” She closed her eyes and yearned so much for the noon time break.

She felt herself wilting here now, sinking down as her heart pleaded for his soul, no break today alas, he will continue on as she struggled to fight an angry tirade of mind, a fantasy conversation with painted scenes of the night, “should I scream and shout - I want so desperately to escape this now, to be alone knowing only his warmth for all my life.” She remembered the times she’d hated his calm in those early days, tried everything she knew to make him angry, make him jealous, seeking signs that he really loved her, that all this could be true. Until of coarse her time of falling, the surrender to her deep binding love of him, her deep binding need of him, and at last she knew the passion, knew the secret of the mystery - oh! Yet now!

She sat there with sensations of other, how time can change it so, she was losing her heart felt lover, and not to another woman either, but this stupid crazy, madding crowd, and what did they know of him, what care did they have for him, as she who loved him so. These overgrown children who want him to form some magic tricks, like the nonsense in their heads, their childish wish for a soft and easy life, “Oh! - How we cling to childhood - and will these people ever, ever grow - I‘m sick of hearing their prayers of such childish yearning so!”

‘Mary!’ She jolted awake at such sweet sound, the softness of her lovers touch and gazing into his eyes she bathed herself in his loving smile. She rose to take his hand, surprised still further by the lateness of the hour and grateful for such a fast dwindling crowd. Even the dozen stares of projected shame and the continuing disparaging looks did nothing to unsettle her now, for he’d long since made it plain, ‘she is with me.’

She walked by his side, hand in hand, her pride only eclipsed by her passion for him, so many times she’d sworn inside, how she would gladly lay down her life. Later on, at last the supper was done and she felt her pleasure rise, rising as she led him away inside, the haven of their room was her vision of paradise now, her very own heaven, here already come.

In here she knew so well, what to do, how sooth the rack of his tensioned pain. She heard the small sound as he dropped the wooden latch on a closed door, already she had loosened her robe and as she felt his closing sensations, she turned, her hands to shoulders, her beauty so ready to unfold.

As her robe fell around her toes, she heard the sigh escape his cracked lips, saw the wilting posture and was so ready for his fall. He moved closer now, his eyes heavy on her breasts, as his hands gently clasped and held her bronzed hips. His touch brought electric sensations to her mind, and she closed her eyes, slowly pursing her lips, yet she missed his kiss, as he finally succumbed to his weary bliss, collapsing to his knees, he uttered such a heart felt plea.


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