I couldn’t tell what it was that we had. I felt different. I felt alive. Like the missing piece to a puzzle.
I craved to feel the heat of his body against mine, for his tongue to move in me.
But more than anything I desperately wanted it to be more than sex.
 |
| Original photograph by Tristan Kube |
Lust burns bright like a roman candle but is quick to subside, love shines maybe not so resplendently, but is the constantly warm yet illusory light we all keep chasing never to find. It is true, it is sad – love is only a feeling that we had.
From @AntonyCF:
She wanted his love, He wanted her for lust! Between the two of them, He was wanted by another for lust, She was wanted in to be love by another! Life's twisted comedy, we keep playing games we don't like and want to, but we're merely puppets on stage drama - Love/Lust
From @shamsmakkiya:
FLASHBACKS.
Lust for life.
Bosom friends.
Lotus seeds.
Gum trees.
Peacock feathers.
Sand dunes. Sarsaparilla roots.
Childish quarrels.
Venomous creatures.
Hearty wishes.
Sorrowful departure.
Happy meetings. Crazy parties.
Grand occasions.
Whimsical thoughts.
Memorable journeys.
Arab voices.
Historical love.
Unlimited messages.
Haunting memories.
Aching tears.
Unbearable reproaches.
Unexpected incidents.
Chance acquaintances.
Blissful seconds.
Love for death.
From @Mari_deSilva:
“How the legs machang? Like a bloody super-model!”
“I’d tap that any day!”
What it must feel like to be at the brunt of such objectification. The humiliation and indignity of it all must be unimaginable. So demeaning.
Must feel good to be able to turn a few heads though no?
From Human to Turd:
Her mother often looked at him insinuatingly and on some occasions even let fly a sarcastic and caustic remark which he judiciously chose to ignore. She never trusted him from day one. To her he looked (not so much the cheat but) a free-spirit who would one day break her daughter’s heart. She was wrong.
From @wikifreakz:
The ballroom was ablaze with the radiant disco lights.
The ecstatic Tango music bursted in the fullest spirit.
Their torsos brushed each other.
He sighed emitting weed stench: a furnace -literally.
Their desires popped up swiftly just like the bubbles of the beverages served.
The neon board at the entrance read:
'THE VALENTINE'S SAGA - 2013'
From @capt_sparkly:
In your darkened car,
buttons undone,
wet and wanting,
I lust for more,
Of you.
From you.
Fogging up the glass,
fingers tangled,
licking the sweat,
off the base of your neck,
Inhale.
Exhale.
I am the kind of girl,
your mother warned you about.
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