sisu's Dream
She lays her head tiredly on her pillow It's been an exausting day.
Her mind is a turmoil of thoughts filtering through faster than she can almost process them.
Scattered thoughts, some lingering some fleeting. It's like someone opened a floodgate.
She sits up and grabs the hairbrush from the nightstand beside the bed.
Slowly she starts drawing it through her hair. She tries to relax, closing her eyes taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly and evenly as she drags the brush down through her silky mane.
A voice in the back of her mind whispers to her, "Here, let me do that for you." She feels the brush slipping gently from her fingers and a warm hand on the back of her neck where he lifts her long hair, shivering slightly as the cool air rushes to meet the warmth created there.
She feels the brush pulling at the underside of her hair, making her head tip back slightly.
"How relaxing this feels", she thinks to herself. Almost as if he is really there, stroking her hair.
Her eyes open lazily as she looks around. She is alone in the room, the dim light from the nightstand casting it's gentle glow around the room. Shadows falling here and there.
A sudden restlessness overcomes her, and she gets up to move about the room.
She picks up the lighter from the nightstand and sets the incense stick that is sitting in it's holder on the dresser ablaze. She looks into the flame a moment, lost in thought, watching it until it glows red and then softly blows the flame out. The whispy trails of smoke float up to surround her in the heady scent of jasmine. Such a sweet musky smell... she breathes in deeply and lets the air rush slowly out of her lungs.
Walking a bit further she lights some candles that are scattered around the room.
She is *going* to relax... she has to. As she lights the last candle, she pauses.
Feeling the warmth of two hands being placed on her shoulders. She tips her head forward slightly as they begin massaging her tired shoulders.
"God, that feels so good.", she thinks. The hands move up to the base of her neck, fingers moving deftly, kneading in a circular motion. They move down, in the same wonderful motion,
all the way down her spine, and up again.
She moans softly under her breath, and the hands disappear.
Picking up her head and looking around the room she sees nobody there.
It's empty, lifeless, except for the flickering of candlelight dancing around the room.
She walks to the nightstand and clicks off the lamp there.
She sits down on the edge of the bed, sliding her feet out of the high heeled shoes she is wearing.
Wiggling her toes and stretching her feet, she leans back on the bed.
Raising her arms above her head she stretches her whole body.
Her back arches off the soft mattress, her neck curved as she tips her head back.
She lifts up a leg to stretch it out, and feels the warm hands on her calf, holding it there, mid-air.
They gently move down her leg, towards her foot, stroking and massaging her.
She can feel the thumbs digging into the arch of her tired foot, and she groans, loving it.
The hands stroke upwards on her foot to her toes, rubbing each one carefully in turn.
And then run down to her heel, grasping it and massaging it until she feels herself relaxing again.
She feels the hands set her leg down carefully, only to move over to the other leg to give it the same attention.
By the time they are done, she can feel her feet and legs tingling with new life, feeling totally relaxed and invigorated all at once.
Lifting herself up on her elbows to look down at her feet, she sees nothing.
No one is there, she is alone. She stands up slowly, unbuttoning her blouse and removing it in one swift motion.
Setting it carefully over the rail at the end of her bed. She reaches behind her to unbutton
and unzip her short skirt and slides its down from her hips slowly bending to retrieve it from the floor. She folds it slowly and places it at the end of her bed as well.
Hooking her thumbs under her thigh high stocking, she sits on the edge of her bed and rolls it down slowly and neatly. Placing it on the bed next to her, and removing the other one in the same fashion.
She takes the pair of stockings and walks over to the highback chair that sits so quietly next to her dresser. As she moves, she catches something out of the corner of her eye.
It is her own reflection in the mirror. Tipping her head to the side, her long auburn hair falling forward over her shoulder, she reaches behind herself to undo her bra and slides it from her shoulders, down her arms. Tossing it onto the chair as well.
She reaches for the top of her panties, sliding them slowly down to the floor and stepping out of them in one fluid movement, they join the rest of the undergarments in the chair.
Slowly she walks back to her soft warm bed.
Pulling back the covers, and climbing in. Laying her head down on the pillow and pulling the blankets up to cover her naked body.
She takes one last look around the room. And then she closes her eyes, and drifts off into a peaceful sleep.
A smile crosses her soft lips as she dreams of the One that has touched her so completely.
~sisu~
September, 1999
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
poetry- sisu's closet
sisu's Closet
She opens the closet wide.
Searching over her wardrobe carefully.
She is not looking for
the -perfect- outfit to wear.
She is looking over her cloaks,
all lined up in a row.
There for easy access,
in case one is needed.
Each one has its purpose,
and in a way,
they are all the same.
To hide.
While others hide behind their masks,
she prefers the security
of these fine tailored cloaks.
Each one a perfect fit.
Some more comfortable to wear,
only because of the amount of time
she spends in them.
She takes one out,
holding it up to inspect it for tears,
flaws that may be in the fabric.
A way through her defenses.
The light blue silk is cool to the touch.
Almost indifferent.....
Holding itself away everyone,
aloof.
She carefully places it back on the rack,
knowing she does not need that right now.
She pushes a few aside,
the dark brown wool,
hard to touch,
prickly.
It hurts to wear this one,
she thinks to herself.
Pain.....rough to the touch.
Scratching at her skin.
She frowns and moves it aside.
Her hand lingers on
the next one she touches.
A rich, royal velvet.
Soft and inviting.
Alluring....
drawing others closer.
Passion is what she feels
when she wears this one.
The warmth and glow of a lovers embrace.
Freedom to express
the erotic woman underneath.
And worn far too little.
She sighs to herself,
and moves on.
The next is so dark she almost misses it.
A sooty, black floor length linen.
Meant to obscure the wearer,
to keep them in the shadows.
Loneliness...
drawing herself away from others when
she slips into this one.
A shadow...
there...
but not quite there at all.
Sighing softly she moves on
. Her hands touch a almost tranparent,
white, filmy cloak.
Vunerable....
it's not often she wears this one either.
And never in public.
Would be too easily torn, ruined.
Too easy to get to the real her underneath.
She shivers and continues on.
Grinning to herself,
she pulls the next one out.
You can almost see
the immediate laughter bubble
up inside her as she
gazes at the worn muticolored
fabric of the heavy cloak she holds.
She folds it over her arm,
running her hand along all the different
colors there.
Laughter....
it pours out of her freely.
This one is often worn,
people like it.
And she likes to see
the response it gets from others.
Joy...
in the happiness
and laughter
of others.
She replaces it carefully among the others
and moves on....
looking...
searching.
She takes one last one out and tries it on.
Wrapping herself up
in the warm familiar
feel of fur.
She smiles,
this is the one she likes best,
but sadly,
is the one she has never worn.
There has been times
when she thought she might get to.
But it was always returned to the closet.
In almost pristine condition.
Love...
surrounding her,
all consuming.
She rubs her cheek lovingly
against the silky fur.
How she longs for the security of this cloak.
Wanting it with every fiber of her being.
A single tear slips down her cheek
as she takes it off again
smoothing the folds as she
chokes back the hurt and pain.
Hoping to someday slip into
it's secure feeling and never
have to take it off again.
~sisu~
1999
She opens the closet wide.
Searching over her wardrobe carefully.
She is not looking for
the -perfect- outfit to wear.
She is looking over her cloaks,
all lined up in a row.
There for easy access,
in case one is needed.
Each one has its purpose,
and in a way,
they are all the same.
To hide.
While others hide behind their masks,
she prefers the security
of these fine tailored cloaks.
Each one a perfect fit.
Some more comfortable to wear,
only because of the amount of time
she spends in them.
She takes one out,
holding it up to inspect it for tears,
flaws that may be in the fabric.
A way through her defenses.
The light blue silk is cool to the touch.
Almost indifferent.....
Holding itself away everyone,
aloof.
She carefully places it back on the rack,
knowing she does not need that right now.
She pushes a few aside,
the dark brown wool,
hard to touch,
prickly.
It hurts to wear this one,
she thinks to herself.
Pain.....rough to the touch.
Scratching at her skin.
She frowns and moves it aside.
Her hand lingers on
the next one she touches.
A rich, royal velvet.
Soft and inviting.
Alluring....
drawing others closer.
Passion is what she feels
when she wears this one.
The warmth and glow of a lovers embrace.
Freedom to express
the erotic woman underneath.
And worn far too little.
She sighs to herself,
and moves on.
The next is so dark she almost misses it.
A sooty, black floor length linen.
Meant to obscure the wearer,
to keep them in the shadows.
Loneliness...
drawing herself away from others when
she slips into this one.
A shadow...
there...
but not quite there at all.
Sighing softly she moves on
. Her hands touch a almost tranparent,
white, filmy cloak.
Vunerable....
it's not often she wears this one either.
And never in public.
Would be too easily torn, ruined.
Too easy to get to the real her underneath.
She shivers and continues on.
Grinning to herself,
she pulls the next one out.
You can almost see
the immediate laughter bubble
up inside her as she
gazes at the worn muticolored
fabric of the heavy cloak she holds.
She folds it over her arm,
running her hand along all the different
colors there.
Laughter....
it pours out of her freely.
This one is often worn,
people like it.
And she likes to see
the response it gets from others.
Joy...
in the happiness
and laughter
of others.
She replaces it carefully among the others
and moves on....
looking...
searching.
She takes one last one out and tries it on.
Wrapping herself up
in the warm familiar
feel of fur.
She smiles,
this is the one she likes best,
but sadly,
is the one she has never worn.
There has been times
when she thought she might get to.
But it was always returned to the closet.
In almost pristine condition.
Love...
surrounding her,
all consuming.
She rubs her cheek lovingly
against the silky fur.
How she longs for the security of this cloak.
Wanting it with every fiber of her being.
A single tear slips down her cheek
as she takes it off again
smoothing the folds as she
chokes back the hurt and pain.
Hoping to someday slip into
it's secure feeling and never
have to take it off again.
~sisu~
1999
Weeping
Sorry I haven't wrote in awhile. Seems life has reached up to smack me directly in the face. My whole world is threatening to come crashing down around me. And it all hinges on whether my Husband loves me anymore. Or whether he loves someone else more.
I am not sure when/if I will write anything more. This all hurts so terribly much. My heart feels as though someone has drove a white hot poker into it. And it sits and burns. Waiting to see if it will burst into flames or if it will just prolong the agony.
I am not sure when/if I will write anything more. This all hurts so terribly much. My heart feels as though someone has drove a white hot poker into it. And it sits and burns. Waiting to see if it will burst into flames or if it will just prolong the agony.
Monday, October 1, 2007
A contest! Hurry!
Yes, it's a contest at Splat Designs! Hurry and enter, there isn't much time! You could be the big, BIG winner of a brand spanking new template for your blog! I know mine could use some pizzaz! Go ahead, click below! (And hurry!)
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