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  • wistfullytwisted 1d

    Words like Elixir

    A bewitching blasphemy was under its way
    As his majestic mahogany eyes now lay
    On a dutiful damsel with a fiery demeanor,
    Having twisted tastes, an eternal dreamer. .

    His gruelling gaze saw then through
    Her gentlest heart behind crevices crude.
    Expressions from apertures on ceilings of her heart
    Poured profoundly on the deluge of his raging scars.

    Kneading notions of passion into her supple skin
    With potions of adoration filled to the brim
    Threads of trust, sewing the beleaguered
    Distances between, the unrevealed lingered.

    With an arched bow, the cupid took aim
    At the hearts, of the two, already aflame.
    Evoking a lava from the most dormant of souls
    To enunciate emotions, no longer controlled.

    Spilling the sacred scents of devotion
    Plummeting into ravenous rivulets of adulation
    Worshipping the sanctity of their feelings so pure
    Marvelling at their heavenly union allure.

    Submitting to vows unspoken, undefined.
    Dancing to tunes of the present times.
    Mending lyrics of songs forgotten in the past.
    Asceding towards future, hopeful to last.

    Fabricating spells magical weaving his words.
    Reiterating in her heart, were now his verse.
    His words for this superlative deity,
    Tugged her towards his mystic virility.

    Transcending into his world of verse.
    In his glimmering eyes, hers shimmered.
    What no sensual serenades had implored,
    His words like elixir, now held them close.

    ©wistfullytwisted

  • wistfullytwisted 5w

    Wrapped in layers of the figurative, still hopeful.. someone would want to read, understand and know me more... But would I let them?

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    Blur!

    Embellished with a vivacious zeal.
    Words so precious, with the power to heal.
    Contagious smile, camouflaging the plight.
    A pallette of thoughts, from pastels to bright.
    Exploring adventures at every turn,
    A mind so calm, with a soul that burns.
    A hopeless romantic, wary of love.
    Kohled eyes, caging kindness and hurt.
    An open book, with pages bookmarked.
    A bloomed hyacinth, playful at heart.
    Distant one moment, the next, receptive.
    Candid much, still seeming deceptive.
    Courageous galore, yet somewhere unsure.
    Mostly ambitious, but secretly implores
    for someone to look beyond the gaiety,
    Be interpreted and loved in all entirety.
    Away from misconstrued perceptions,
    Be recited, with devotion,
    like a hymn, if I were a poem...
    ©wistfullytwisted

  • wistfullytwisted 6w

    Disgruntled, judgemental.
    Ready to dissect.
    You'd often dismiss me, as a mess.
    If only you saw yourself
    from the same lens.
    You'd see, how you and me,
    Are both inevitably imperfect.
    So you let me be,
    As I let you be.
    Accept.
    We're all damaged.
    Some on the surface.
    Some way down deep.

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    The distorted lens used to judge me reveals,
    you're just as erratic and damaged as me!
    ©wistfullytwisted

  • wistfullytwisted 6w

    Embellished porcelain skin
    Marred in black and blue.
    The contoured cheeks
    Contused as rouge.
    Tassled tresses
    Hauled and styled
    With a bouquet of flowers
    Scented but dried.
    Embroidered vicuna as her veil
    Defending the reputed family name.
    Against frames of lilacs, flowy silks,
    The gilded beauty, lonely sits
    With stoic eyes, smile stitched.
    Enamoured with spite, venom on lips.
    A mystery in herself, the most evasive.
    Awaits darkness to become all pervasive.
    ©wistfullytwisted

  • wistfullytwisted 6w

    Accepting
    dissent, disapprovals.
    With knotted tongue,
    heart so frugal.
    The courage to live
    surfaced,
    when she witnessed
    her own funeral.
    ©wistfullytwisted

  • wistfullytwisted 7w

    Delirium

    Tides of time washed away
    The sand castles of memories.
    The sunblock on the mat, tease,
    where your fingers once touched me.
    I see our footprints now,
    On the lovers' beach,
    Fading away, with the icy-cold breeze.

    The Pina Colada's diluted
    With extra rum for a sound sleep.
    I still wake up to the Sea Gull's cries
    From my eyes and heart, tears bleed.
    Every sunrise, the hollows of my eyes,
    Behind tinted glasses,
    See new castles of memories.
    With illusions, of you and me,
    Leaving new footprints on the lovers' beach..

    ©wistfullytwisted

  • wistfullytwisted 7w

    Withering in arrant silence,
    The Moonflowers of her innocence,
    Unfurled no longer from sunset to dawn,
    Reeking of filth, her chastity now gone.
    The known, now strangers.
    On her trust, fed scavengers.
    Choking on thoughts, feelings scattered,
    She appeared all haggard,
    Feeling tinctures of his touch
    Still fresh between her thighs.
    Thinking how she bled her virginity
    While she was all of just nine...
    ©wistfullytwisted

  • wistfullytwisted 8w

    Dark Chocolate...

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    Devouring the dark chocolate of her lips
    Licking off the bittersweet with an orgasmic kiss
    She kicks off stress,
    Endorphins inducing empress,
    And you still judge her for the accent amiss?

    ©wistfullytwisted

  • wistfullytwisted 8w

    A confetti of stars melt in the cauldron
    Plangent lyrics run through the dorms
    Obscure lights waltz around
    The sun and moon eclipse with a frown
    Denouncing integrity, the witches bellow
    A bridge of black-n-white rainbow
    Foreboding unknown, the ill-omened doors
    All lead me to you, from the crossroads...
    ©wistfullytwisted

  • wistfullytwisted 9w

    The lavender lattes
    no longer soothed,
    her desires uncouth,
    to return to the haven of bliss.
    Her lips still twitched,
    reminiscing their last kiss.
    She girdles her loins,
    picking up flowers from the past.
    Wondering how much longer
    the separation could last.
    She lays him down, dominating.
    Amused and grinding,
    watching him crush, under her touch.
    Like a puppet, dancing to her notes,
    he further coils, as she strokes,
    first with fingers, then her tongue
    sliding across his length.
    Twisting, writhing,
    waiting no longer to taste him,
    she parts her lips,
    placing them on his tip.
    She ignites the end with a matchstick.
    Puffing her joint, lost again, in bliss!
    ©wistfullytwisted