camille

The invitation.


The invitation.


Shadows stretch their inquisitive fingers,
Swell of hip, carved alabaster,
Curve of thigh, sweet promise within.
Salt lake within that exquisite cavern.


I turn my head...My eyes meet his- watchful, languid with desire.
A hand brushes my breast, hesitant at first,
Light as moth wings, teasing,
This vessel that invites a passenger.

My lips are parted and his tongue seeks entry,
Eager - insistent.
Determined to taste the spoils of another,
My body a continent ripe for exploration.

I cast my eyes once again to the object of my love,
The one who has set me free.
Wild woman on horseback drunk with carefree abandon.
My freedom his aphrodisiac.

His soul meets mine and I am lost.
My lover forgotten...resented..His hands now an unwelcome invasion.
His presence in stark contrast to the One....
I sigh.. At peace...Content...Our journey is just beginning....