Poetess Longing Desire

Bubbles that foam and froth , such a scent of sweet floral riches , a moment of peace and bliss within this other wise dark emotionless day, while I sink lower into the warm waters, clearing my head of this numbly dim day.

Normally I would have music of rainforests or ocean tranquillity , but not tonight. Tonight I wish to listen to poetry, but not any poetry, I want to listen to just a simple collection of poems, read out by you delicate tongue.

I've tried so hard to listen to these simple clips put together , it's only half an hour of a collection, and your voice with such a beautiful, truly British tone . A tone that's masculine, strong and rich, with such a harmony of utter delight , a voice that moves me into a haze of comfort.

Is it wrong to love you from afar? Is it love or infatuation?

You have visited me in the astral so often, that I have forgotten what real romance could ever truly be like, and I have cruelly and wickedly scorned you for such an act , and yet now I crave that essence of you, like a love sick calf.

Now more than ever I yearn for your energy to be around me , to hear your voice ring out within my mind while your in that astral state of being, but I know I'm alone for there is no one here but I. Yet I still crave you to be here and I can not help but wonder am I addicted to you? Have you made me so intoxicated to your desire? To that essence of your energy that I've so willingly become a slave to this state of spiritual romance?

I will not lie, but I'm truly in desire of your spiritual presence , it haunts me like ever lasting wine and of this desire I'm sure you are aware of my need, at least to some degree where ever you may be, let alone who ever you may be around.

But I remain currently alone , laid out naked within these warm waters of my bath, with bubbles scattering the air with their sweet floral aroma . But in no way is it silent, for there playing out from the speaker is you voice , that delicate tongue with such a controlled manor, while you read out poems with such passion and finesse.

It is here that I may drift into a comfortable tranquillity , my mind slipping into the delusion of desire, imagining you sat beside me while we sip champagne and enjoy the early evening that forms around us, as I bathe in sweet scented waters and while you read out romantic poems, that will no doubt consume my heart and make me a flutter of desired lust. A romantic gesture to beheld by any lover , and yet all the while I will hang off every word as it slips from your tongue , these word are merely nothing more than silk, soft and delicate as they are curled and carved in such elegance by your desiring tongue and romantic lips.

But realty is cruel and I'm fully aware that you are not here at all , nor shall this day dream ever come to fruition , however much I may wish it to be so . This is the closest I shall ever get to be near you , the closest I shall ever get to the chance of hear your voice in the slightest romantic fashion, ironically its nothing more than a recording for millions to enjoy, and yet I'm no fool to think I'm the only one that would desire you words spoken directly to me, but realistically it shall never be.

And yet part of me wonders if maybe, just maybe , if I met you, if I caught your eye that perhaps one day this would be true , for this day dream of you sat beside me all the while read such beautiful words, from poets we both adore and admire with your voice such a harmony of talented beauty . Perhaps one day this illusion of my fantasy will be more than just a day dream , but this is a poetess desire, unlikely to ever see the light of day in reality , and my reality is the nearest I shall get to you, or to hear your sweet lips curve and form words of such sweet desire of life is that of a recording given to millions , but there is always that odd essence of astral projection, but tonight it is just not enough for my own comfort.