Love Did Not Fade

Her eyes did not wander
no kisses were shared
on another’s lips
love did not fade


she walked away
from mistrust
and pain



love did not fade

Lost in the words of a song –
a bitter boy
clings to the hands
of time
and the widow     separated
from the bride
by years of experience;
love does not fade
it all becomes part of his game


even when she is not the one
he is thinking of
love does not fade

it remains

hidden, locked away
the passion of six years
bittersweet, held tight

surrounded by wishes and desire

no it didn’t
does not
did not

~ Siobhan


Questions and Answers

Do you miss me? Not an easy question
to answer. Yes, in ways I had not thought
and no, in ways I thought I would miss you.

Can you still feel my presence in your bed?
Though scent of you has been washed from the sheets
you remain an impression beside me.

Does your body ache for mine – inside? out?
Skin soft to the touch, your touch just as soft;
longing and desire exist in me.

That is not an answer to my question –
This ache is longing – both pain and pleasure;
Longing for all the elements of love.

Love without trust; separated by time
and distance, real and imagined – that’s us.


Fire and Ice

When cold invades, snaking its way along
tendons, assaulting the muscle between
shoulder blades, he melts it away. Fingers
caress down the length of calf, a heated
touch cupping hips that ache – then with pain, now
with want – eases her from thoughts of warmth to
murmurs of desire; chill forgotten.
The crunch of tires on snow and ice fade
beneath the strains of Debussy. Music
soft enough to dream by relaxes her
into his arms, even as passion wakes.
Is it the room’s chill air kissing her flesh
or his mouth on her breast that excites her?
Fire and ice burn together tonight.

Her Companion
Cold slices through sinew – separates – rips
muscle from bone, shoots the body with pain.
Adrenaline pumps across nerve endings;
wreaks havoc on her ability to
breathe, move, survive the everyday motion
of life. They can’t see the effects. Her smile
hides a grimace, tears quickly blink away;
this routine has become reality.
She is an expert at accepting this,
the sensation of carving knives running
along the edge to fillet thin pieces
of flesh from shoulders, arms, across her back
and down each leg; rarely the same place twice
in one hour – always her companion.

Vanilla Brandy

Sweat trickles between her breasts as she gets
into the rhythm – smooth strokes. She pushes
through the ache in her wrists knowing it won’t
last long, soon it’ll be easy motion;
she’ll hardly notice the change. Splashed across
the tips of her toes, speckled on arms and
the bare span of flesh along her midriff,
it blends with tan lines and mixes in
with freckles from too much time hatless
in the sun, no protection for fair skin.

Taking a sip of cool from a chilled glass
she pauses to survey her progress – smiles
at the transformation – pale blues to warm
vanilla brandy, laced with soft cream.

© Siobhan
May 24, 2009

Nights Like This

It’s nights like this when our hunger for one
another takes over, brushes aside
any differences we are having, and
unites us on a completely different
plane of existence than the everyday.

Even when there are no words connecting
us, we communicate skin-to-skin deep,
your nakedness hovering over me
moments before we join; my desire
mirrored in your eyes, need blatant, love clear.

Tonight when I hear the thunder, I feel
it in the depths of my body, an ache,
an emptiness waiting for your touch – words,
whispered passion between our lips, barely
audible in the storm raging outside.


Exhale Silence


Standing naked mid-room, I turn around

in circles, catch my reflection mirrored

at odd angles – some flattering, some not.

I lift to tip-toe and pause for effect,

gaze at calves firm, curvaceous hips, one hand

pressed to my belly, I hold my breath – feel

the gentle swell of my breasts, the ache

for another’s touch. I exhale silence.


I lay on top of the bed, remember

the first time  – and the last – and each between.

This room’s cold now, its bare diamond center

feels empty and alone without the warmth

of laughter, playful words whispered with sex –

nighttime conversations – hidden meanings.