Secret Longings
I.
Jasmine-rose oil fragrance the air
A subtle reminder of you, and a night so fair.
How your hands rhythmically went across my naked frame,
All the while you continued to whisper my name.
“Angel o Angel, how I have longed to touch thee.
Angel o Angel, use your wings to free me.”
II.
The gentle tapping of his fingers down my spine,
Matched my heart beat in perfect time.
Again caressing my calves and thighs
An intoxicating bliss is slowly realized.
“Angel o Angel, how I have longed to touch thee.
Angel o Angel, use your wings to free me.”
III.
The waves of euphoria came to a sudden stop.
For a moment I thought, “I have used every single drop.”
Yet I felt his towering presence in the room,
And began to tremble like a babe in the womb.
“Angel o Angel, how I have longed to touch thee.
Angel o Angel, use your wings to free me.”
IV.
When the passion died down, and all was silent
I reached out through the dark and quiet,
For the hand that touched me so deep
A hand that made my heart leap.
“Angel o Angel, how I have longed to touch thee.
Angel o Angel, use your wings to free me.”
V.
Disappointment filled my eyes,
Upon the morning’s sunrise
As real as it did seem
It came to be nothing more than a dream
“Angel o Angel, how I have longed to touch thee.
Angel o Angel, use your wings to free me.”
©2005 Shana L. Martin
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Aching
I can see the moment and I feel the emotion. This is truly an eternal and humanity-spanning desire and you presented it in a unique way, perhaps one that speaks to your particular circumstances, but also one that speaks to everyone. Thank you!
That is exactly it!
32 years I have spent in this chair. When I am out in public clerks in stores still look to whom I am with to answer a question I might have. People still stare at me when I eat to see if I can get the food in my mouth! When people don't see a human being sitting in front of them, how then can they see the heart? That I might have desires as any other woman would? That is where my writing helps because you see the heart…the "true self" before the broken and deformed body! My writing is the bridge to show that I am a woman, writer, who just happens to use a chair instead of her legs. Who believes in God and living a predestined life!