A phantom

celstialtears

Sometimes I ponder
what you are.
A mirage perhaps,
my body starved
from thirst, a mere
hallucination
of the mind.
A phantom, maybe.
My souls need for hope
a self made vision
in a world of dark
shadows kissed
by the crescent
moon.
Or perhaps you’re a
dream, a universal
symbol coated in
star dust, your essence
a mellifluous whisper
from my slumber.
But what are you?
Reality? No.
How can reality
feel this way. My
reality. How can my
reality feel this way,
A fantasy then?
You must be.
A fantasy of love.
Of acceptance.
We were never
meant to be.
Or perhaps,
we are the definition
of serendipity.

Karen Hayward (c) 2017
Image found on pinterest

Crimson Blush.

karenart

Your essence lays deep within my core,
my mind unquenched it begs me for more,
My spirit, chaotic has never felt so sure,
Of all our choices, I’m thinking all fours.

My skin searches always your touch
cheeks yearning for your crimson blush
An intense need that roams without rush,
A slave to desire and the erotic rush.

My eyes wander other realms to need,
to ponder the evolution of master’s feed,
to secure the taste essence of seed,
To taste liberation to be free.

I find you again at the core of my mind,
dark evolution, my wrists you do bind,
Kisses so soft, touch. . .of a kind,
this here lust that does burn,
Is yours and is mine.
It is yours and it is mine.
The whispers of need as
two souls entwine.

Karen Hayward (c) 2017

Words and image.

Intense tug from my core.

chaos

I’m a little afraid.
Afraid of the end.
What my scattered
Remains will
resemble as lost
shards of my soul,
Split the atoms
of my spirit,
penetrating
my heart.
I’m afraid,
Of eternity.
For having tasted
Your essence I will
Crave you till
the end of days.
I’m a little afraid
of you,
For this strength
you have placed
beneath my wings
that drives me higher.
I’m afraid, afraid
of the depth of
reality, the
narcotic pull,
the intense
tug from my core,
I’m afraid you’re
enough, I’m
afraid that I’m sure.
I’m afraid,
for my dirty soul,
messed up spirit
and fragile heart,
of the day that comes
when we are no more.

Karen Hayward (c) 2017
Image found on pinterest

Decibels of lust.

img_20160712_171011.jpg

I’d wake you with kisses soft and gentle,
And by gentle I mean, greedily devouring
your skin, teeth grazing, fingers digging,
I’d pull the essence of you deep into
my lungs
leaving a trailed mess of desire in my blood.

I’d whisper to you, quiet words of love,
by quiet I mean silent screams of despair,
My lips still, my voice waking your senses,
Decibels of lust rattling through your body,
I’d pull you from sleep, drag you into my reality.

I’d be your morning beauty, your ray of Sun,
By beauty I mean unruly hair and wild eyes,
naked skin still warm too touch,
I’ll be your light of darkest sin,
A golden stream of endless need.

I’ll wake you with love, in deepest hues,
By love, I mean a selfless promise,
a heart so pure,
a forever innocence, I mean a caring caress,
An honest embrace, a knowing smile,
And a heart that does race.

Karen Hayward (c) 2017
Image and words