A Love Trumping Lust
Wendy Ashlee Coleman
Copyright Wendy Ashlee Coleman 2011
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Cover Art by Bethney Cole
The lust; it flows through my veins, married and mixed with the red liquid that keeps it alive. I want to believe that I can control it, that this primal sin that infects my dreams and thoughts can be defeated with discipline and self control but it can’t. Because with every heartbeat, with every breath it saturates me to the point where I can taste it in my mouth and it conquers my mind effortlessly.
The sight of you, it sickens me more and more every time I partake in your presence. Your beautiful body, your symmetrical face and your sweet scent, as sweet as a piece of devil-grown, forbidden fruit, intoxicates me and quickly stiffens my body’s softness while making me shake uncontrollably.
Your voice and it’s femininity just fuels the flame of my desire for you and even though it kindly says, “no”, to me, it boils the lust that poisons my blood, manipulates my thinking and says you want me.
I know you want to be friends and, I know your heart belongs to someone else. A part of me -the good part- wants to be happy for you, it wants you to live the life that you want, it loves you enough to let you go but you don’t know the real me. You don’t understand that the goodness residing in me is only a small part and that the thimble-size amount that I have is dominated by something that is possessing me more and more each day, something I couldn’t possibly control because I don’t want to control it anymore. The majority that conquers me is a side you’ve never seen. The passiveness and friendliness you trust is nothing more than a sham now, a show that, to this day, I wonder why I keep presenting.