Enchanted Forest by Alphie0216 via DeviantArt.com

Your arms, your grasp,
Your breath at my ear,
Your beard on my neck,
Your lips and tongue sear.

My mind, my heart,
My tears wet my pillow,
My body defies me,
My breath becomes shallow.

Your fingers, your rhythm,
Your touch is so knowing
Your desire interupts me,
Your love just keeps growing.

My mouth, my core,
My lust is so sinful,
My thoughts disappearing,
My hope wonderful.

Your eyes, your soul,
Your whispered delight,
Your true love making,
Your satisfaction, so right.

My arms, my grasp,
My forced restitution,
My will bent to you,
My only solution.

Your final, your forever,
Your only wish granted,
Your rediscovered love,
Your life, enchanted.

My magic, my fate,
My truth to be slanted,
My growth to be known,
My life, enchanted.

Our dreams, or infinity,
Our world replanted,
Our sweet, simple everything,
Our life. Enchanted.


His eyes, like the mirrored reflection of a shallow pond, but with a depth that is beguiling…

His lips, so soft and sweet, I could kiss them over and over for hours… days… forever…

His beard, speckled with silver, silky to the touch, but deliciously scratchy on my neck, breast, belly, …the super soft spot behind my knee…

His fingers, oh dear God, his fingers, long and slender, strong and teasing, stroking, squeezing, pinching, kneading, swirling, twirling, invading…

His manhood, the way it curves, the way it fills, the way it looks in his hands, the way it feels in mine, the way we fit, perfectly…

His strength, as a man, as a lover, as a father, brother, son, friend and absolutely, as a husband, never weak or absent, always available, for anything…

His brain, so intelligent, filled with knowledge of depths I’ll never penetrate, makes our son smarter, me richer, the world better, every day…

His wit, childlike, at times, easy and fun, and most appreciated during moments when my heart and mind are heavy, because his are never too heavy to laugh…

His hopes, …wrapped up within me, I take them everywhere, so we could never be apart, not with this beautiful part of him locked inside me…

His love, sweet, gentle, kind, open, honest, innocent, whole, not difficult, not contingent, not replaceable… mine.

His everything…
my everything…
I am his…
he is mine…



When the hurt is overwhelming, I sink inside my mind.

In that moment, the mixture, the symphony is respite.

The soft of one, hard of the other.
The chivalry of one, demands of the other.
The gentle words of one, the harsh curses of the other.
The sweet hopes of one, the dark fantasies of the other.

It’ll never be, my dark knight in white armor. It’s just a dream.

To accept the limitations,
To enjoy the experimentations,
To tolerate the lack of ministrations,
To be at peace with adaptations.

My neediness resigned. My fantasy remains hidden. My world in reality?

Is the love enough to curse the hurt away?
Is his heart strong, can it keep mine in play?
Can the needs of our family keep my needs at bay?
Can MY heart handle this constant sway?

These chains that keep me, bind me, to a life I should hold dear, are they deformed?

The reality is simple, the fantasy complex,
The reality neglects, the fantasy expects,
The reality agrees, the fantasy objects,
The reality is limited, the fantasy reflects.

In this moment, the mixture, the symphony, is respite.

But then the hurt returns.

And I do it again.

I torture myself.

For neither has an end.