creative-writing, dream, erotica, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry, Writings

Confetti

Confetti of romance showers over me;
The caress of silk arouses me as I lay in blooms of fantasy;
Clothed in robes of rose petals.

Blossoming lips of pink yearn to be kissed, to be watered by wanton lust, to feel the thorny tongue thrust,.
Trace the thorns down my neck, cause my stem to shiver with delight, grow the passion tonight.
Petals rest upon supple breast, smooth and yielding to feathered fingertips, sweet to hungry lips.

Confetti blanketing my nakedness
Blow them away to expose my womanliness
Unrobed of rose petals.

Panting and moaning in a state of bliss, under the command of your kiss, wildly in column as your tongue enters the heavenly abyss.
Pleasure overwhelmingly intense, as frolicsome body arched in suspense, legs tremble at as the lusting grow too immense.
“More, More” I scream and plead, of the aching, pining, perishing need. Satisfy my ravenous greed.

Confetti of wantonness scattered in disarray;
As I dance my intimate ballet, my sweat my new perfume, fresh bouquet;
Bereft of rose petals.

Petals strewed upon the bed, kaleidoscope of pink and red, as legs further spread.
Fingers grasp at your hair, pushing you ever near, melted into his sizzling affaire.
Taste the bittersweet of my sex, higher my breasts convex as I become closer, ever closer to my apex.
Pussy atingle so good it hurts, at talented tongues good work, I explode like a firework

– Shashank Bhardwaj

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clouds, creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry, poetry, Work from Home, Writings

Reverie

the moss by the window grows up
presumptuous contentment ferments itself.
This air is magically much lighter today
I remember this forgotten dream
where each rain drop
becomes a spiraling sigh of someone I knew.

Searching for my heart,
I scramble in linen white bedsheets,
my eyes rummage the room for a mirror
for this face must be a void :
an artist’s regretful hallucination
a dreamer’s revered loss.

We smile the best,
when the mind’s eye forgets the face.

I should settle for a second slumber
to grin like a Cheshire cat,
the sky turns murderous grey
a lovely occasion? Isn’t it?

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beauty, creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry, Writings

Breeze

What’s the opposite of an echo?
Lay your head on my chest,
Under this waxy paper moon and
Tell me what stories hide
In the constillations of your freckles.

Let my fingertips trace over
The epics in the old soul.
Some spines are cracked,
And pages torn– but you,
You always remember
Which are my favorites.

“Have we done this before?”
“Tracing ourselves in one another?”
“Yes”, you say
and that mellow smile of yours brews
a breeze smelling of thousand dreams,
I collapse into them. Slowly, again.

Shashank Bhardwaj

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creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry, Writings

Fear

She had raw love
the one you don’t find easily,
the one that is hard to play with,
the one that destroys you.

but you will still keep asking for more
because it’s a poison
that would end your hidden sufferings

because she can make you believe
with her eyes and love
that you are missing something within

you don’t fear death now
you fear those eyes,
that love,
this life,
without her.

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Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, poetry, Writings

Heartless

The tongue is heartless servant, it slithers on your neck and lips, like a snake devoid of warm flesh, I feel the warmth and the tremble in cleavage, but I am cursed as in Eden.

It smothers the bra slowly, peeking within with satanic eyes, the warmth is a thirst for a thing made of out flesh, it multiples while inside, caressing, pressing, Disappearing with eyes,
Your breath is a kiss of blaze burning and I was a winter worth nurturing with hands choking my existence

The breasts caressed slowly, into a tumultuous moment of touch, I trace the tips to its origin, feeling them erect and ready for to pleased, unhook now and lie down, let me taste the eden before being banished forever.

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creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry, Random thoughts, Writings

Conundrum of Choices

To eclipse a past
Is to brace a free fall,
You have your toes ready
for the descent,
But your skin has a bolt of lightning
Teasing the tense tissues.

Who shall remember you?
A corpse about to turn to uneven bacon,
You had a heart of fire.
Now it is dilapidated smoked ruin.
Was it worth it?

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