There you are……..

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There you are, as if the night whispered your name so ever gently as you laid across the waters bay.

There you are, a peaceful light used for those who seek more to this moments delight.

There you are, a fragile beast, so delicate with razor sharp teeth that could gnaw through the bone.

There you are, another soul awaken from its darken den that he once knew as his home.

There you are, another wave came crashing down, drowning those if they become his prey.

There he laid whispering into the night sky, across the waters bay, peaceful in the moments delight. A beast with razor sharp teeth that could penetrate the bone. His soul awoke from his darken abode as the waves crashed down upon his prey and he set sail onward under salty dark blue seas…..

There you are..as he felt his beastly ways melt upon her hallowed hole as the whispers echoed a new fortune for him as he finally found his vitality, his home and found her beautiful soul…..

Karen S-K

Copyright 2015

All Rights reserved

Indentured Servitude

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She weaved a web with her tattered worn clothes, she walked away from the strands that clung unto her woven frayed box. Splinters interlaced her web and punctured more of her garments that tattered onto her horrid webbed wooden box. An unsightly box stood there wrapped around the web underneath the rusty nails that she laid her pretty little head. Fragile, volatile, soft and so used, how could the web entangle her into this web she already once knew. Locked in a box was her indentured servitude as the box was filled with rusty nails and something that couldn’t be true. The box laid cold, musty and diseased with lies for one who dared to venture through the darken box would only come to their own putrid demise. For he could undertake this perilous webbed path as he peered with his helpless eyes. How the web had entangled him into the box barely scraping his fearless hands, gripping the splinters and rusted nails as he clutched onto her strands that she carelessly left behind. There they both rest now under the wooden tattered entangled box. Her indentured servitude remained as she weaved a web with her tattered worn clothes and now the splinters punctured his sad little demise.

Karen S-K
Copyright 2015
All rights reserved

Edacious Flesh

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His flesh yearned as he laid deep within her breast, so deep, so proud as if he claimed his stake as if he had dominated his greatest conquest. So loud, so new, so beautiful, so luminous that it could blind all that would peer through;the depths that could echo his yearning flesh into millions of stars seeking the blindness of night though his love so sweet yet, so deeply intertwined beneath the delicate soft saturated sheets. His flesh yearned another layer of life that he buried so deep amongst his burrowed pride. So illuminating, so everlasting true for he felt a sense of idolatry and she felt his edacious lovely truth.

Karen S-K
Copyright 2015
All rights reserved

Savages versus Caveman

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I can feel the eyes locked on me like prey. Waiting and stalking for the right moment to attack. A savage has laid its eyes upon me as if I am fresh meat in an open field  of prey, waiting to pounce in the right opportunity to feed their hunger of flesh. Yet, the savage reverts to the caveman as his undeveloped cortex lessens his decision making. He begins his approach as he wants nothing more than to pick his prize and drag his meat away. The classic courtship no longer exists, the delicate swooning  of a woman is neglected  as savages and cavemen squander thru the endless dens of possible prey. Evolution has returned to an era where sex is the relationship and the relationship is sex. Savage love is what prevails in this time and for love, love is now nothing but mindless games. Men armed with their swords on guard to challenge the next savage that stumbles their way.  The debauchery of unforeseen hope that men will evolve back into the true classic man that once walked among the women courting each one with class that is truly deservedImage.  John Vanderlyn 1804 “The Death of Jane McCrea.”

“There is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs.”
―  George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords

Copyright 2014
Karen SK
All rights reserved