The Erotic Writer

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Fractal

From a walk in a new city. –M

I tried to circumscribe my desire
but in so doing discovered its fractal nature.

I thought if I could encapsulate and control passion
it couldn’t expand to consume either of us.

But I found this:
Tracing the maelstrom’s perimeter
running my fingers along its sensual texture
it’s far from smooth.

It crenellates ever finer
battlements on battlements.
Beyond jagged.
Beyond serrated.

Like the simplicities of curves;
your calf, thigh, ass
unfold through dimensions of sense and memory
to something more than skin and smooth and warm;
softness cutting sweetly.

I realize now
walking the lines of supposedly contained want
I may be just as lost,
just as consumed
as if inside them.

I think
perhaps
it isn’t such a thing to fear
after all.

About Monocle

I am the little devil on your shoulder, stroking your neck with my tail, whispering obscenities into your ear, and looking down your blouse. One third of The Erotic Writer blog.

5 comments on “Fractal

  1. willcrimson
    October 2, 2011

    This reminds me of my own post a while back: Rapture, and I enjoyed your post for the same reasons I wrote my own. The convoluted inward spiraling of your poem felt, in its own way, fractal.

  2. paul1510
    October 2, 2011

    Monocle,
    Thank you, this is just, perfect.
    Paul.

  3. ximenawrites
    October 2, 2011

    Your touch chases away
    the creeping cold that always lurks in me
    and threatens to freeze me out of myself again —
    an uncontrollable need to control my emotions.
    I’ve become an empty shell of who I wanted to be
    An analytical mess, an idiot savant, a perfect ape.
    Even after having fought so hard to find an identity
    I want to get lost in your embrace,
    become a silhouette who glories in your warmth.

  4. Lady Grinning Soul
    October 2, 2011

    This made me smile. And sigh. Beautiful.

  5. vanillamom
    October 3, 2011

    i read this on my phone yesterday…it was very …. “professorial” at the start…and then it just sort of melted…from a staidness…to a mellow acceptance…and it haunted me. I was thinking of it while driving home last night…

    and it wasn’t the words that came back so much, as the feeling of calm acceptance i felt at the end. i have a notoriously bad memory for words…but what they leave in their wake? well the good stuff lingers….

    nilla

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This entry was posted on October 2, 2011 by in Erotica, Monocle, Poetry and tagged , , .

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Crimsonian & Obsidian Lens

The Obsidian Lens and Crimsonian contain links to password-protected stories from the Erotic Writers with darker themes. For more information on Obsidian Lens, click here. Email William Crimson directly for admission to the Crimsonian.

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This blog contains adult material. If you are a minor, please go. If you are an adult, you are welcome to stay but be warned, this blog contains erotic fiction and images - sexually explicit content abounds. The themes sometimes tend toward the darker and weirder corners. Be your own judge when deciding what to read.

The rights to all stories by William Crimson are reserved by William Crimson. The rights to all stories by Monocle are reserved by Monocle. The rights to all stories by Ximena are reserved by Ximena.

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