Here I am, shameful isn't it?

This Blog is where I intended to put up some of my prose and/or poetry. Why? I’m not quite sure. Catharsis seems to be a prominent, reoccuring theme in my life... so I guess that’s why's I’ve created it. To experience catharsis, which seems to have a healing effect on my psyche.

Here goes one...

I’m trying to think about you.
But all I think about is her.
How you never cease to arouse a lost soul like mine amazes me.
It's in the sultry dance your eyes have done, when no one was looking.
"For your eyes only," you seemed to indicate.
And sometimes I found it in the temperate yet impactful way your hand grazed mine.
But often times, latley, I find it in the most lucid, torrid dreams, where the lust is thick and lingering in the air, and where you present yourself as the most beautiful phantom I have ever seen.
And how unfortunate I feel to know my dreams are not my reality.
When I wake up, I am presented with nothing but remnants of your taste, dancing on my lips--taunting and teasing me to no end...
And how gut wrenching it is to know that my dreams are not our reality, because unforgettable is your ambrosial smell stained all over my aching skin.
December 2007.

Teresa.