No More a Woman

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oasis665
oasis665
12 Followers

She begins the journey
As naïve as a child
The yearning of desire
Without knowing why
A rage of a river
Coursing through her
Flowing and ever steady
The heartbeat she feels
As a pulse to her soul

Pulling and guiding her
To the seam in the fabric
She can pick apart
Ripping open with the wonder
And the excitement of release
Filling herself with the fear
Sewing and stitching it inside
To savor and breathe
Weaving itself to the being she is

Her mere acquiescence
A portrait erased
By a leap of spoken acceptance
Now his canvas to create
A masterpiece in his journey
To create his creature
Desired lines and color
His own palate
Strokes of his own genius

Nothing and all he manipulates
Her lines to be erased
And drawn again
His brush harsh and demanding
Then soft as her own skin
In a caress or kiss
On a tender mark
Or a kind word
To assuage a cruel pen

She demands nothing
Most content when he is pleased
Allowing she to be reborn
Trusting the design
Felt even as she burns
With the marks left behind
Even in a lonely place
When he must rest
Before he can work on her again

oasis665
oasis665
12 Followers
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2 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 10 years ago
WOW!

POWERFUL!

batjac69batjac69about 16 years ago
humf

The journey is her beginning,

In naïvité as a child

A restless woman coursing

The woman as the river wild........

Sweeping her in guiding pools

The fabric waves of her release

To breathe the savory excitement

Into a torrent crease...............

Her acquiescence is her portrait

To accept the leap of faith

The water colored portrait

Strokes the grandiose wraith.........

All or nothing he manipulates

Her lines of form erase

The sea his brush of harshness

Her soft skin can not embrace............

Her demands are all her nothing

Encased in a woman's form

His marks are of his nothing

As twain she waits to be reborn............

She demands nothing

Most content when he is pleased

Allowing she to be reborn

Trusting the design

Felt even as she burns

With the marks left behind

Even in a lonely place

When he must rest

Before he can work on her again