There is an eloquence in love that dove-like soars lofty and true, strive as we might to capture it, to entrap it tattered like a pinned butterfly morbid in its lost beauty.
I have known as many have what it is like to shrivel dessicated beneath an angry sun, sullenly grasping at a hope that rose so far beyond my weary withering limbs.
Yet even that pain is purposeful, pursuing a being that meaningfully rips away the pins that prickly bind, the mortar that your broken heart to a man unworthy did cement.
Freedom is more than the cracking of shackles that deny our steps, more than the ruin of fetid fears that leave us impotent and scarred, abandoned by enervating doubt.
Freedom is the expansion of the heart imparting a kindness and ageless beauty that ascends beyond the darkest past, casting glorious a light that brightly each sound, each flowing color imbues
with a hue and hope my voice longs to forever sing.
These imagined kisses are not enough, my love, not nearly enough to quell the daunting clamor of this heart, this flesh, this needful being desperately longing for the warmest touch of beloved you – these embraces effacing the coldness of another day another night alone.
These overly wrought renditions of love meant to further pale the complexion of shyest moon swooning over ever slumbering Endymion. And like Selene so deeply stirring, demuring over the merest thought of you, fully formed images of you that hopeful hold my heart.
This dreadful distance callously calling words that wash over trembling timid me— taunt me no more I cry despising this time. Allow me rather to worship the wealth of you, the richly rewarding moist core of you dewy dripping your desire over my lips.
Lay before me, opening to my tongue tracing laces down your blushing skin as I whisper adoration across your breasts, suckling each firm peak teasingly adored before downward more I implore the hardening bud of you between my worshipful lips.
Let me bury my face in the moist warmth of you, my tongue licking longing lustfully to taste ever deliciously you who nourishes life, as hardened I hunger to plunge deeply within breathing most passionate pleading prayers across every inch of your sweetly pulsing flesh.
Speak, and allow this so ordinary yet daring man, who strides anonymous through a world unknown, to love you even more than words could craving say.
The degrees I have collected are evidence of commitment rather than any intelligence, for if I were really so astute, then why have I stumbled so often through these years as if incapable of learning from my abundant mistakes?
I have indeed lived a full life: have sired beautiful children, acquired multiple languages, and lived in several countries. I have seen my books published hosted a show on television, and composed more poems than anyone should ever endure.
I have been places and seen things that evoke envy in others. And yet, beyond the superficial glamor of it all, I have failed time and again to recognize and honor the value of truth or to embrace the unconstructed beauty of an honest love.
Which is perhaps why now when all else is said and done my soul can stand thus naked beneath the sun and unfettered declare in a voice quiet yet keen: I am a fool and have always been. Yet let not my mistakes define me, but my eagerness to learn from them,
the trees were silent and still as i descended to the stream coursing gently over polished stones stepping down towards the foot of the ancient mountain
i knew i had to be here— it was where i always found peace whenever the world shook my faith and discarded hope for the sake of angry profit
i was alone, but not so for she was always within me her voice echoing in my thoughts her laughter tempting my spirit to frollick once more in the glen
but now in the warm sunlight straining down through branches bowed beneath times birthing years and tearful only for the want of most beautiful beloved she
i crouched at the water’s edge and playful submerged my hand beneath the surface, my skin drawing in the immediate warmth, invigorated by its sweet clarity
i sat for a time, imagining her as eager and elevated i might strain to calmly remove her clothing piece by careful piece, the scent of her arousing my blushing flesh
in my thoughts she lay beside me her breath beckoning my lips to brush hers as my hands explored her skin, glorying in the enticing contours of her exquisite beauty
urged on, i would trace my tongue down around her breasts, teasing them, pleasing as well as i may my lover’s grateful need while breeding hope once more
until at last resting between her legs i might taste the very core of her, as heart and soul and flesh fell together unfettered and fully formed, adoring each moment when love could cry
The enormity of words is so oft forgotten, he said, buried beneath the banalities of an unremarkable life, and yet it is through speech through voice, that I find an incomparable strength an unimaginable vitality in the simplest acts of being.
I have listened to you with the utmost attention, to your sweetly spoken and every whispered word, and I know that you doubt this, but there is in your voice a truth that reaches deeply inside this me and caresses my depleted soul back to life.
Your words impress patterns on a moment unexpected. My words beggar disbelief, I know, as no one could possibly accept their veracity, so swiftly felt and so zealously conveyed. And yet they are the truth, so I offer them to you without any expectation of return.
Rather I say them now so that you may know how wonderful you are:
I love you. And I hope that some wondrous day you may feel the same.
with just one word, you so truly now undo me unraveling simply my rapturous needs to happy reveal a heart of fervently beating and pulsing measures treasuring the very ardent sound of you, moaning my earnest soul as if you had forever known thus keenly me
with just one word, you cajole my trembling lips to linger honeyed over the sweetest taste of you opening, my tongue exploring the shadows of your thighs, caressing perfectly unpatterned you, who with nothing more than a single whispered word can coax my aging flesh so firmly to rise within you
with just one word, you trembling with brazen bearing sharing all of hidden you caring for naught else than these my fingers teasing tensing within you wetly exploring, adoring my darling you whose tremulous voice implores my needing arms to envelop you my lips to kiss moistly you my heart to beat your name
and all because of just one word that flame like flickers across my soul, sealing my heart with honest hope
she passes over the land step by eager step, knowing at once the rhythm of water, the color of laughter, the texture of passion
she denies the beauty i see in her face, her flesh, her heart, decries even that so expansive and perceptive mind that I esteem
when most heavy fell the desert of his heart: his fulsome foul voice, the frigidity of his betrayal, the futility of desire— she founded her life
in abandoning decay this glorious striving she discovered the beauty of scornless being, the luster of hope, the magnificence of yes!
to which I undaunted declare: sing, my love, and be heard dance and be seen play and be loved, and in each moment know how brilliant you are
this world is yours, beloved: paint this your canvas in colors that speak of mysteries that beguile, of journeys that transcend, of passions that manifest!
George Ellington 