A Hundred Deaths

~ Purpleanais

A garland of flowers
Petals tumbling down
Over her shoulders
Hair whipped by the wind
Skin tasting of salt
Found in distant shimmery seas
Eyes circled by dark rings
Green pools in which he drowns
Willingly
Unable to resist
Vivid cerise lips
The call of her hips
She tilts her head
He loses his
Dies a hundred deaths
In the madness of mislaid hours
The crest of wild waves
And divine dreamy languor

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53 thoughts on “A Hundred Deaths”

      1. My God, Nathalie…if you didn’t pull every fascinating detail from my brain for this…I would be surprised. If I didn’t know you wrote this I would believe I did. Holy crap, this is the essence of what lives in my heart every day.
        It’s like being in a foreign land and finding someone who speaks your native tongue. It’s perfect and you’re amazing. 💜

        Liked by 1 person

      5. For you to say *you* might have written it…is like the knight identifying with the poor peasant girl! I’m just delirious with joy right now. Omg, Eric…you have MADE my day!! 😘💜

        Liked by 1 person

      1. Indeed it does. I love how WPers seem to feed off each other sometimes. There is a lot of good energy around right now.

        Liked by 1 person

  9. This is a masterpiece Nathalie. I have no way to relate to it adequately, but I see it as the finest oil painting, done by a Master, hanging in the most ornate and expensive gilded frame

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  14. I am nominating you for a March madness award, just copy and paste this over 5 blogs if you like to participate. “I’m nominating you for That’s So Jacob’s March Blog Madness! It’s simple: find five interesting blogs today, copy and paste this comment, and give them a follow! http://www.thatssojacob.wordpress.com. Have fun spreading the blog love this month!”

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  16. Nathalie, this is a mesmerizing read! It’s as if from your words a hand reached into my soul. It gently squeezed and left me breathless. The visuals of wind blown hair and skin traced with sea salt brings me to ocean to witness you. Looking into your eyes, I see the ocean residing in pools of quiet fire…I begin to burn for you. Your lips and hips call to me as the ocean waves pound the shore. This same ocean swells within me as I ache for the release. I want to ride the crest of the nature’s wild beat…into you.🌊

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    1. Michael, your comments are always epic but, hell…this is particularly amazing! “Skin traced with sea salt” is alone worth being included in a poem of its own! You’re bringing such delicious images and sensations to mind 😘

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  18. Pingback: Happy Birthday to Nathalie | Mr. Modigliani's Private Studio

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