Moochie’s Mementos (and a pic or two)

[Moochienanu]

The dance between restraint and hunger, such beautiful and apt imagery.

Always appreciate your words.

Moochie, I love your poem and the accompanying picture. Your words paint a beautiful picture, only to be outdone by the beautiful image of you.

Thanks for sharing

Thank you, dd. I’ve been feeling more inspired of late and I’m not complaining at all about it. Thank you for your comment.

Beautiful Moochie. I feel every word. And I learned a new word And your picture is beautiful, as always

I am guessing the French? I love saying the word décolletage. It sounds so much more naughty than “cleavage” and has more of a ring to it than “the upper slopes of the woman’s breasts.” Thank you for stopping in and reading. I like hearing what you think.

 

[Moochienanu]

Time stretches long without you,
each moment weighted with wanting,
a slow burn that coils low and deep,
untamed, unrelenting.

I close my eyes and feel you—
the ghost of your touch
skimming my skin,
the heat of your body
pressing into mine,
claiming spaces only you know.

Behind walls and shadows,
where the world cannot follow,
I imagine your breath,
hot against my neck,
your hands gripping, guiding,
your voice a rough growl
that makes me unravel.

The ache sharpens,
not just for your touch,
but for the way you fill me,
entirely, endlessly,
until I am nothing but yours,
until the distance between us
is swallowed by the heat of now.

I crave the moment
when time will still,
and you’ll be there,
buried deep,
moving like you were made for me.
My body, a song only you can play,
tuned to the rhythm
of your pulse,
your words,
your hunger.

Until then, I wait,
the longing a fire
that refuses to fade,
a promise etched in my flesh
for the next time
we are alone.

 

[GallantWriter]

Your words are always fantastic. And the pictures you take are always of the same caliber. Beautiful, Moochie, as always!

 

[Azuldrgon]

Time stretches long without you,
each moment weighted with wanting,
a slow burn that coils low and deep,
untamed, unrelenting.

I close my eyes and feel you—
the ghost of your touch
skimming my skin,
the heat of your body
pressing into mine,
claiming spaces only you know.

Behind walls and shadows,
where the world cannot follow,
I imagine your breath,
hot against my neck,
your hands gripping, guiding,
your voice a rough growl
that makes me unravel.

The ache sharpens,
not just for your touch,
but for the way you fill me,
entirely, endlessly,
until I am nothing but yours,
until the distance between us
is swallowed by the heat of now.

I crave the moment
when time will still,
and you’ll be there,
buried deep,
moving like you were made for me.
My body, a song only you can play,
tuned to the rhythm
of your pulse,
your words,
your hunger.

Until then, I wait,
the longing a fire
that refuses to fade,
a promise etched in my flesh
for the next time
we are alone.

I envy the subject of this one.

 

[menoone]

Time stretches long without you,
each moment weighted with wanting,
a slow burn that coils low and deep,
untamed, unrelenting.

I close my eyes and feel you—
the ghost of your touch
skimming my skin,
the heat of your body
pressing into mine,
claiming spaces only you know.

Behind walls and shadows,
where the world cannot follow,
I imagine your breath,
hot against my neck,
your hands gripping, guiding,
your voice a rough growl
that makes me unravel.

The ache sharpens,
not just for your touch,
but for the way you fill me,
entirely, endlessly,
until I am nothing but yours,
until the distance between us
is swallowed by the heat of now.

I crave the moment
when time will still,
and you’ll be there,
buried deep,
moving like you were made for me.
My body, a song only you can play,
tuned to the rhythm
of your pulse,
your words,
your hunger.

Until then, I wait,
the longing a fire
that refuses to fade,
a promise etched in my flesh
for the next time
we are alone.

Beautiful as always. Very inspiring for imagination and desires, as well as aspirational. I hope you do not have to wait long.

 

[oldnotdead47]

Time stretches long without you,
each moment weighted with wanting,
a slow burn that coils low and deep,
untamed, unrelenting.

I close my eyes and feel you—
the ghost of your touch
skimming my skin,
the heat of your body
pressing into mine,
claiming spaces only you know.

Behind walls and shadows,
where the world cannot follow,
I imagine your breath,
hot against my neck,
your hands gripping, guiding,
your voice a rough growl
that makes me unravel.

The ache sharpens,
not just for your touch,
but for the way you fill me,
entirely, endlessly,
until I am nothing but yours,
until the distance between us
is swallowed by the heat of now.

I crave the moment
when time will still,
and you’ll be there,
buried deep,
moving like you were made for me.
My body, a song only you can play,
tuned to the rhythm
of your pulse,
your words,
your hunger.

Until then, I wait,
the longing a fire
that refuses to fade,
a promise etched in my flesh
for the next time
we are alone.

Beautiful Moochie. A lucky person to be loved like that

 

[hairball18]

Time stretches long without you,
each moment weighted with wanting,
a slow burn that coils low and deep,
untamed, unrelenting.

I close my eyes and feel you—
the ghost of your touch
skimming my skin,
the heat of your body
pressing into mine,
claiming spaces only you know.

Behind walls and shadows,
where the world cannot follow,
I imagine your breath,
hot against my neck,
your hands gripping, guiding,
your voice a rough growl
that makes me unravel.

The ache sharpens,
not just for your touch,
but for the way you fill me,
entirely, endlessly,
until I am nothing but yours,
until the distance between us
is swallowed by the heat of now.

I crave the moment
when time will still,
and you’ll be there,
buried deep,
moving like you were made for me.
My body, a song only you can play,
tuned to the rhythm
of your pulse,
your words,
your hunger.

Until then, I wait,
the longing a fire
that refuses to fade,
a promise etched in my flesh
for the next time
we are alone.

You are always a breath of fresh air.❤

 

[OldScotsman]

Time stretches long without you,
each moment weighted with wanting,
a slow burn that coils low and deep,
untamed, unrelenting.

I close my eyes and feel you—
the ghost of your touch
skimming my skin,
the heat of your body
pressing into mine,
claiming spaces only you know.

Behind walls and shadows,
where the world cannot follow,
I imagine your breath,
hot against my neck,
your hands gripping, guiding,
your voice a rough growl
that makes me unravel.

The ache sharpens,
not just for your touch,
but for the way you fill me,
entirely, endlessly,
until I am nothing but yours,
until the distance between us
is swallowed by the heat of now.

I crave the moment
when time will still,
and you’ll be there,
buried deep,
moving like you were made for me.
My body, a song only you can play,
tuned to the rhythm
of your pulse,
your words,
your hunger.

Until then, I wait,
the longing a fire
that refuses to fade,
a promise etched in my flesh
for the next time
we are alone.

How I missed your beautiful words and of course the delicious images to accompany them, lovely to see you are still here