The dairies of a girl who knows a slut

SPARK TRAILZZZ!

If I didn’t know her I would think she was loose, if I didn’t, I would think she was wild, if I didn’t know her I would I will raise my nose in the air and call her ‘slut’. Sitting there in front of his car, winding, moaning, careless abandon, all she wanted was her piece.

I was appalled yet enthralled. She looked like some Greek goddess, picture of all things sensual. With each passing moment her soul soared higher, with each eagle’s touch she transformed. I looked on; she wouldn’t have cared if she knew of my presence then.

I kept looking on, still at the back of the car. I heard her speak, some foreign language I couldn’t fathom. The light on her skin; she glowed a strange yet soft and charming shade. I am sure she didn’t know she was watched. More strokes, more moans, higher, reaching.

I lingered on still captivated by the dungeons of my racing mind. I was experiencing first hand true and pure human sensitivity bared. I was here and I can’t move away knowing well enough that what I am witnessing I shouldn’t. What I am seeing should be left private.

She stroked back, with every rising eagle’s touch, she surged back. Her head fell back, eyes slit slightly open, now I see her face. A dream really and an angelic yet demonic look grazed her being. Her shirt fell open to her swollen chest. Yet she couldn’t care any less even if she tried.

Possessed, promiscuous, cheating little woman. Yes all that she is, yet I am jealous of her. Having such escape; reaching such heights; touching heaven ever so slightly. Ha! Yes I am jealous.

Because where this painter lady is, I would never reach, lost in her paints and the strokes of her brush. Transported somewhere no one else can be. Cheating life’s worries as the picture came to life. Eagle’s touch with every paint feathered in. the beauty of her eyes with each improvement. Then she gets to that that crazed peak and each stroke mattered so much. Troubles abandoned, problems forgotten. Just sheer joy and intense emotions.

Sitting there in her brother’s car, my boyfriend’s too, capturing the sunset and the birds. For the first time in my life I experienced firsthand, this little cheat, this beautiful painter who showed me how to be immersed in another world, cheat on life mercilessly and touch heaven ever so slightly.

Picture:

The Garden of Adonis - Amoretta and Time

Courtesy Peter Nahum at The Leicester Galleries

' His sexual kingship, my King'

He walks in and there fell a hush
my head spun from the blood rush

His stride so confident drenched in youthful gaiety
And his face like that of a Greek deity

Tall and broad, yet such toned abs
And his chest so big it would make good slabs

He stood and looked around
All the ladies in the room spell bound

He turned, his face a weathered one
Still not any of its handsomeness gone

A boyish aura around him
Still in a crowd, a king he will beam

Because a king he is, a king his name
Him and his name, one and the same


...His eyes fell on my face
And all that maleness held in a brace

broke into a crooked grin
That lopsided grin that pushes all my stress in a bin

He walked towards me, jungle strides of a lion
Fever engulfed my loins

From my stomach weakening my knees
Churning like a nest of bees

He reached me and I swear
I swooned, for his effect I can no longer bear

Every ladies in the room green with envy
Their eyes darting like poison ivy

I am his queen and with him I belong
And His touch can make me long

Then He spoke in a voice that my heart grazed
'Honey can we go?' by now am crazed...
'
Hello, hello, sorry, are you there?'
And back from from my obvious daydream as it were

Flushed with embarrassment and sudden fluster
I crooked 'how may I help you?', ah bugger

'My name is King, can you tell your boss am here?'
'You can go right in' My heart beating, no a pounding lair

Then before he walked right off, he turned and winked at me

My weak heart exploded, He was my King after all

With heart singing and brains ringing
I was really jolted, he was mine for a second's splitting
His sexual kingship, my king

THE WOMAN FIFTEEN YEARS YOUNGER THAN I AM.

SPARK TRAILZZZ!!!

I saw them today.
Pain, hot and sharp sired my heart

...Walking out of the galleria.
His arms draped around her shoulders
She was laughing up at him
Face shining, so young
Care-free, happy
She was saying something he liked hearing
Obviously so 'cause he had that grin
That very grin that got my heart
The special one that makes me forget all my anger at him...

Shocked, mouth gaping, jaws dropping to the car floor
I was already stepping on the brakes, Hot red fury!
About to go over there
Scratch her eyes out and drag him away.
As I was stepping out of my car
To do real justice to her swinging weaves and spaghetti top
My son tugged at my sleeves
'Mummy, this isn't the toy shop'
I was jolted back to normalcy
My daughter started chanting
'Not toy shop mummy!, not toy shop mummy!'
Looking at my son's face, so much like his father's
I can't go after him
I can't create a scene,
I love my children
Heck! I love that grinning bastard

...I looked over at them again
And I could see what only I could see
He was where he wanted to be
He was happy, chatting away, young again
Fifteen years younger even
His strides had a jolt in it
His face all lit up, enthralled
And suddenly, it struck me
She was his get away boat
Sailing him somewhere we all wanna be forever
Somewhere sweet, carefree, exciting
Somewhere where he could forget all the seriousness of family life
Where he could be young again
They were walking over to his car now,
Chewing gum and making it look like the single most important thing in the world...

...The woman fifteen years younger than I am
Was smiling at my husband
And I hated her fifteen times over
Each time for every year that takes me away
From being what she is now to him
The woman without whom he has bills and fees and child care
And all what nots to worry about with
The woman that was just sheer fun for him
Yes, pure fun
And I took pity on her
She is young and beautiful and fresh
But she is stupid, ignorant and naive
'Cause it's me he comes home to at night
He actually has a life with me
He gets away from time to time like a ship goes to harbour
But I am his sea
Troubled at times, but peaceful most times
And with me is where he belongs
I stared at her again
The woman Fifteen years younger than I am...

...Call me foolish, call me chicken, call me a wimp
But one thing is for sure
When I sleep tonight, my world is complete
'Cause he is in it
And she is not
Holding me, trusting his life in my hands
Knowing that I will keep it safe for him
Till he comes home to us...

And so off to the toy shop I drove
All the while, the picture in my head
She is fun but I am his world
He is with her now but the night will come
And she would be alone and cold
That would teach her a good deal of wisdom
The woman fifteen years younger than I am