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Bubbles of Moonlight Delight

This was a fun poem inspired by a more masculine mind set, I wanted to create a poem inspired by a lover to his love.

By Alixzandra WisemanPublished 3 years ago 2 min read
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Bubbles of Moonlight Delight
Photo by Sam Loyd on Unsplash

A deep bath filled with bubbles that raise and pop, a mix of imperial scents of moonlight delight. Warm waters sway with breath so smooth , garnet hair with beadlet drops of water dripping down across the skin of her bussum , returning to the pool in which she bathes.

Her eyes crystal clear skies , rest silently at the ceiling above before closing softly , relaxing in her serene centre of peace. Quietly I'll step into the bathroom , having watched for the perfect moment to make my presence known, leaning over the edge of the bath leaning down toward her as her eyes are still tightly shut, and in that moment stealing a kiss from those rosy lips.

Her eyes flash open gazing up upon me I can not help myself , but for a moment thoughts of desire swim into my masculine mind , the natural order, the primal urge. Yet these feelings must be surprised , for I can not take with out giving and oh how I want her, but to take her now would be uncouth.

I must be a gentlemen in this action, so I step back standing once again upright before sitting on the edge of the bath , gazing at her as she sits up , carefully moving as if she has become a spirit of water itself.

It is at this moment, and this moment only I show her the bottle of champagne , I have no need to get her drunk but every desire to seduce her and to see those rosy lips slip into the ever bright smile, well that alone fills my heart with a joy so few understand.

I pour out the champagne into the flute glasses, placing her glass on the edge of the bath , before I carefully observe her hands rubbing a bubble mix, a scent so divine across her silky skin. And as if unknowingly my hands take over , carefully rubbing her lower leg then her foot , there is something so seductive about her , but then she is my goddess.

Her body is just a visionary perfection to my eyes, but her wit, charm, intelligence, those are all the beauties of which I adore far more value to, but there is one, one quality that over powers me.

Her gifts, her sight of spirit and understand , her love of knowledge is a blessing and combine with her spiritual talents , well there really is never a moment of dullness. For her spiritual talents are connected to me , our telepathic charm allows us to be silent yet hear and speak a thousand words within the mind not the tongue, and every touch we share is a song of devotion.

But what I would give to say to hell with it all and take her, take her like the howling predator I truly am, to hear her scream and howl in pleasure, like my prey feeding my hunger. But no I can not, I shall not , for those urges would damage her , she is so tender and delicate and I could not bare her hurting from within any more than she had already bared to suffer. So I shall be the gentlemen as always and tenderly seduce her in the way only I know how.

surreal poetry
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