An invitation you accept without knowledge of what possibilities may arise. A curiosity and hope for new sofisticated delectation. Also a second doubt of fear to be displeased. Or perhaps even to be deceived. But per chance to be snared so skillfully, so slowly devoured with unseen etiquette. It would make for a clever game, to be pursued, to be tracked. Or even still, to be more of an unexpected adventure, to hunt a prey worthy? Or even more rare, to finally be the prey worth preying upon?
You wistfully wish but a hesitation was made by your inner self. On a natural course, before your seal of approved delight was offered. It was not. Your jaded routine has regrettably been sampled. No matter. It could not possibly have been noticed for what it was. A needing long neglected. What is done has come to pass and what may come must be endured without unwanted shame or rudeness. You have such disdain for the rude. It is the effort of refined grace that you wear. Like a silken gown darned from the artisan fingers of Greek fates. It comes naturally. A gift given to those whom only appreciate what it truly is. But I saw. Yet do not mind. Your patterned velvet is what elegance has honed.
So you delight in the prologue of my offer. A meter of conversation, a tempo of wit. Nothing too trivial but deep enough to comfortably warm your bare calves of ballad experience.
Then a parting of ways to chart the next course. In an uncharted ocean of what ifs. A journey short and well known. From a different origon only in fables and whispered limericks. An interesting plot yet to unfold by your own hand.
It is here that your alacrity begins. But my treatment shower of affectionate and nourishing care, has already been planted. It has absorbed into your thoughts and grown to a flavor unique to you and only your vibrations. Unknown to me and yet to be sampled.
I watch you innocently preen clean your journey’s end, revealing to my eyes but a glance of the temptation you hope for. I observe your color and graceful intelligence. A winged flutter to show you can flee at any moment, yet the state of hunger in your eyes so pure and rich with desire. You hope I see. Your faith in such possibility, a refreshing mist. It fans the soft flames a little higher in my heart. I did see. Every floating droplet of you in that moment. I saw. A glorious spectrum of you, far to precious to be ignored.
An aperitif of curiosity I brush upon your ego. A subtle delirium of delight I paint. For your canvas, you have most certainly eased twords my fingers. You circle me beyond my own perception. Clueless by design, I openly bare my surface for your engaged palate. Your teeth bared and sharpened. You can see I do not have fear, and only the seasoned scares of battles past revealed. I keep covered that which you know I have. For it is all that you want. A tease perhaps? Even a guarded secret? Maybe.
I feed you the sweet lullaby of passion laced with social taboo. I hand wrapped it for your lips and tongue to embrace. For it was a tirelessly labored effort of preparations. Seasoned for days and cured with a spiced marinade of mystery. For only your pleasure. For only you to devour. It courses through your heated veins with pulses of smooth electric rush. Just for you. A gliding sheen over your chest’s severance. I am there to ease into your interests. However rhythmic you wish to play this game. The first peak is enthralling, yet the following palesades are many and even more anticipated.
Though you must stop for now. This is all more than enough to satisfy that hunger in your furnace. You dare not indulge to much for I am but a wafer thin whisp of a meal in your jungle. Your wildfire has been let loose before. Uncontrollable. Unbreakable. Uncontainable. Only charred devistation would be left in your wake. So you contain the building and escolated yearning, for now.
But there is that one thing. You noticed it when the light hit me but for a moment. I am still the consistency you saw before the feast, but now more clear. Not a nibble taken from my stature. Could this be real? A little more deviant maybe? Perhaps a lure? Yet still so abundant and free for your immersion and taste. Could you be the prey? Could this be the hunt you hoped for? Without the rugged terrain so often traveled? Another carnivore to feast upon your needed attention? Maybe.
We part again for another meeting. But this time it is far more unfamiliar. Granted only in your imagination have you explored such an endever. But not for real. It is not long you must wait to find out.
For you do not see the rest of me as of yet. For I have been the prey and learned by only the luck of chance, to not get eaten. To taste. Just to taste that oh so wonderful sharing of uncontrolled embrace that only two beasts of prey can stir with grace. Giving up ones self fully to the hunt, to feed on one another with indulgence. To grow around each other in a tornado of satisfaction and blissful safety. A game yes, but a safari far beyond any sport a lower class could possibly understand. We are the apex of the inquest. Do you see? You have to search no more for that day to day fix. I am on tap, yet always evolving to method and madness.
This jungle is not of your terrain, yes. It overflows with a glutton nectar your wildfire can’t ever devastate. It will only sway in your breeze of ravinous appetency.
You do not have to wait much longer. For it is a predatory tease we both engage. Can you handle just one taste?
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The year of 2013 rants, poems and twisted views made it to my new book that you can get at the web address below!