I fall
Into the rising blossom,
A flower, scented,
Still alike the one I plucked
From its roots and soil.
I went inside
The world of mine,
To hear every clashing sound
Of her heart against the swinging chime.
My eyes watch darkness,
Where a disguise disuses itself
Over a vein, where I place my pain.
Her round shape,
Her beauty that does not truly take
Long, to see,
For everything that demands a plea
To breathe
More of her in the mention of her.
A robe unwrapped
From torso and waist,
As nothing seen, goes to waste.
Love holds a tourniquet
About itself,
When I dive, to find myself, in her.
What pain
That truly stains
All of me, in her.
What torment,
What sentiment,
What fields to crawl along,
What winds that sing the longest song,
Of what I feel,
Of all I seal
Away in her.
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I’ve had written some erotica so I know how tricky it is to write one as there’s a fine line between sensual and vulgar and I guess you’ve done a good job here ✌
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Sensual and vulgar… or erotica and porno.
Writing a porno is like writing a poem about something one had heard on the news. It’s simple, because it’s everywhere.
Writing erotica involves using a lot more imagination, and delving into areas that would not be normally exposed about oneself.
We may see sex everywhere in our current world, see this as a way to be “free” or “liberated”, though the truth within a person that reflects how vulnerable they are, will always be connected to sensuality and passion. Such things cannot be truly “open”, or otherwise we’ll be vulnerable enough to feel betrayed.
Sex is a lot like revealing a secret, as is seduction. How many Femme Fatale characters had been written of a woman who pried into the affairs, the vulnerabilities, of men? There were many written in famous literature. Carmen, written by Georges Bizet, or the story of Moulin Rouge… they knew about how a man could easily hold secrets, because he never knew how to be weak.
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