she dreamed the same dream night after night~We are an orchestra of one, we are a majesty unveiling, we are newly born lovers, christening one another with mouths and hands and seeking tongues. We are everything and nothing~ Night is falling. night is falling. and I am drowning. in your arms. I am safe again. I am safe again. You surface me, and cling to me, night is falling and I am in my place again. above you, beneath you, wherever it pleases you so... oh my love, I am home again. My heart has been reborn again. the night is falling. and so am I . Falling for you ( into you, above you, through you). night is falling. night is falling. and so am i. so am i. always for you. for you.

blustarswendy3

~random vintage wendchymes~

prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08

2001-11-27 - 6:38 p.m.

oh and you know what? It feels good to tell you my secrets, and somehow get them off my chest. Carrying around so much *silence*, is not an easy thing . I have been to alone, for much much to long.

like, come close, cause this is a juicy one. I think there is something wrong with me. ( duh! see 57 previous entries)

but here it is. I don't have sexual fantasies. not really. and NO, I am not another morrisseyesque assexual, not by a long shot. I mean, I just don't ever really see some stunning rogue stranger and then imagine some illicit scenario with him. And believe me, I have QUITE an IMAGINATION, and a thing for maraschino cherries with long stems...and ...( sigh, the rest is edited for your sanity and my ability to maintain my respectable composure)

Anyway, I am curious as to why I never really enter the sexual fantasy world. More like, I re visit an erotic memory, of an actual moment, but that comes at a cost. It hurts. Maybe I am a closet Sado- Masochist, because call me crazy, but I do not think sexual fantasies are supposed to make you cry. They make me cry because I have such a vivid imagination combined with an astounding memory, so if i close my eyes, and concentrate, I can actually re trace the sensations of a moment spent with someone who meant the world to me. I can perfectly recall the path of his mouth, feel the shifting weight of his body , hear the changing of his breathing patterns, scents, sounds, tastes, shapes , flickering, glittering, shivering, quivering I rememember. Words, promises, desperate exchanges, pleadings, i can still hear, feel, know, interpret, understand, accept but no longer believe in.

and I know I should let go, but how do you let go of the only thing you know ?

old starlight - new starbright

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