The Sweetness of Surrender

I crave your touch.

Engross me.

Take me to that magical place

Our mansion of Seduction

Where all dreams come true.

Touch me,

not without consideration.

Remember,

you touch your own body.

Be here

Drowning in temptation,

every cell alive.

Crazed by the pull of seduction.

Aware, observe your passion

As your fingers play my body,

the master of an untuned organ.

Enter

Into every part of me.

Each touch an orgasm of Awareness.

How I crave you

The sweet kiss of Surrender.

Vibrate

Your tongue

Your lips

Your fingertips

You have come here to sedate me

Now, let your presence embrace me.

Quiver ever so gently

Again and again

Rivet yourself into ecstasy.

This is how I want you to touch me.

Slowly

With every cell of your being,

Slowly

Alert and present,

Aching

Yearning for explosion,

the sweetness of surrender.

You cannot betray me.

I know when you are not here.

And so

I implore you

Please

This is how I want you to touch me.

Immerse yourself into my being,

Take command

Enslave me.

I seek the sweet taste of your victory.

Heavy

Filled with the juices of seduction

Craving

Yearning, for your touch.

Enter me

Feel my desire

Your hands on my hips

The movement of sweating bodies

Infatuated by the sweetness of surrender.

I beg you

Command me.

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6 thoughts on “The Sweetness of Surrender

  1. Pingback: The Sweetness of Surrender « lavendercotton
  2. Pingback: The Sweetness of Surrender | Ania's spot
  3. Thank you for sending me a poem. What a lovely way to communicate.
    I will respond in kind:

    Aching to Open
    In every town
    I have seen a woman digging
    Angry holes in her garden
    Searching for her husband’s eyes.

    Few can stand the searing wails
    Of her manic fury
    Exposing the insanity
    That keeps ripping through the veils
    Of her unfelt forgotten body.

    Her longing still roams through the streets.
    Her yearnings will haunt you every single night
    Sooner or later wildly escaping
    Every law, every custom
    All that is proper.

    There is no fury or hurt greater
    Than a Soul too afraid to open.

    There is no fury or hurt greater
    Than a Soul too afraid
    But aching to open.

    I know the moment your fragile beauty
    Was bruised and taken.
    I know that even the most well meaning words
    Can be too painful to hear.
    I can see how you have tried to be so strong, my dear.

    That is why I will call to you softly
    A thousand times or more.
    I will touch you-
    I will leave my door open
    Until you are ready .

    I will wait right here.
    Even if you recoil a hundred times
    Bash down my offered hands again.
    I can see through the bars
    Of your noble prison.

    You look so tired
    Locking yourself against the forces of love.
    It is exhausting holding back,
    Hoping for more time.

    The years
    And the bodies resentments do not lie.

    The years
    And the bodies resentments do not lie.

    Only the mind is clever enough to hide truth for so long.

    It is only a powerful, clear, conscious love
    That can wake you from this unhealed dream.

    I will in dwell in my own devotion and truth
    I will grow stronger, more aware
    Waiting for you.

    So come, dear one.
    And be with me
    Watch me carve my gratitude from God’s loins.
    Why not eat and drink and laugh at the table once more?
    Lie down your burden of stones.
    Open gently
    And let this ordinary sunlight
    Touch you once more.
    Lets speak of this glorious day.

    Amara Charles
    You can go to http://www.amaracharles.com or Amazon to get my book:
    The Sexual Practices of Quodoushka

    In beauty, Amara

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