Whiff

I need you wrapped around me
with your nails healing my back.
Your breath making me gasp
and your teeth nurturing my chest.

Limbs defused together
as if trying to become one.
Yet bodies pushed apart,
like opposite poles of a magnet.

Your hand to run through my hair
and gentle tugs to turn unsympathetic.
My hands to try and hold on to you
much more than they can.

For us not to care no more
if the embrace suffocates
or the pleasure enthralls
as it turns to pain.

I want the predation to begin soon
be it dark or bright, cold or warm.
I want you to go on
and deliver me the harm.

The palms clasped to each other's body
and inhibitions a thing of the past.
A whiff of me and a whiff of you,
and a room full of love.

For the touch of lips to linger on,
long enough to enthrall.
And the hands to get rough and quick
yet make the time stall.

You pull me on towards you
and pull me deep within.
The bodies to move in unison
as you soak me up through your skin.

I want your smile,
to be the smile of tyrants
as you take the power
and me.

I want all my senses
to elude me
as you start to feel
for me.

I want the crescendo
to be shrill and high.
For it to end with a cry
and a dash of blood on your lips.

I want you wrapped around me
even if it kills.

Love song

Where will the love song come from

Tragedies

I have realized that I am a sucker for Tragedies, the good old fashioned ones. The piercing little low moments in life are what I feed on. I am a Tragedy junkie.

Tragedy is such a sugar coated bitter pill which might as well be a bitter coated sugar pill. Tragedy is not only in separation or failure or losing out in a close race. It’s also in staying together with a fear of separation, coming on top with a fear of being bettered and keeping the lead but worrying about being overtaken.
The abysmal ebb might not be a place that I would be able to rise from often, but I rise from the troughs occurring in plenty day in and day out. While I do not in any way self inflict myself with misery of any sort, I do get uncomfortable when all stays well for too long in my la-la land. And that's when I need something or someone to jolt things up a bit. More then a bit actually. A bitter relationship, a failed project, taxing time at work, a terribly lonely phase, bad health or just a promising stranger not living up to it. Any such nice little tragedies. The exponentially high number of times that the life pleasantly surprises me, makes me thing that I only really start to expect, just to be short changed. And I pull it of with comfort as if it’s a well rehearsed act. Being surprised and pleased, even when I know nothing ordinarily good ever gets thrown at me along the flow of life. And being shaken, even when I can already smell the extreme pleasure I will derive from getting out of this one back to normal. Recovering has become my favorite pass time since long and I never seem to get enough of it.

Love to agree

We always love the ones who agree with us,
but we don't always agree with the ones who love us.

The onsite thing

I feel its high time i blow the lid off this much ado about nothing thing called on site. Its a highly coveted and much desired across all genre of professionals. Its a yard stick of success at times and an indicator of promise a person shows. For reasons completely my own, i flinch every time some one tells me "wow man.. on-site. great" or when some gullible soul asks me "you must be having a lot of fun". Onside or working right under the clients heels is a corporate equivalent of having been deployed at the war front, right under the fire. And its not just the work that gets you. As one spends more and more time alone in an un-inebriated state the more one would realizes the challenges.