Poems On Passion Novels & Stories

“The storm is not a melody for a creature of lust to play with.” “But it is,” she insisted, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. She reached out, not touching him, but letting her hand hover near the bare skin of his chest. The air between her fingertips and his skin spat and crackled with tiny, eager sparks. “Is lust not a force of nature? Is the peak of passion not its own kind of cataclysm? I believe our natures are not so different. Let me learn. Let me feel.”

I bounce, and he follows immediately, like a hungry beast. — I’m going to devour you all night. — You’re wasting your time talking. Get to the action. — At your command, ma’am. It was a torrid night. One of those that you only experience once in a lifetime. A passion that tears us apart, that devours us. Between two breaths, two moans, two caresses, we are reborn. A part of me awakens, a part I have never known. Passion… it both burns and shapes you.

They open the new submissions, journals, sketches, coded dreams, solar poems, sky-written vows. They place them inside. Then they bow their heads. Not in grief. But in reverence. Because they know: The fire is not in the pages. It is in the choice to write them. So I keep burning. Through drought and war. Through joy and birth. Through quiet revolutions that look like hugs, and wild ones that sound like protests. Every time someone chooses compassion over control… I spark. Every time a young girl dares to say, “I have something to say”…

At that moment, a sharp pain ripped through my abdomen, and a sudden warmth spread beneath me. The waves rocked me, as if the sea itself were a cradle. At the same time, the world slowly faded into darkness. I remembered all those nights when I nestled against Salvatore—how he'd rest his hand on my stomach and pray for a little angel of our own. But now, he had left his principessa to drown and harmed the angel he once prayed for. I had known Salvatore for nearly 20 years. It didn't matter anymore whether I loved or hated him. There would be no future for us.

Our attraction, making up for every blemish and every weakness. Our Passion was perfect regardless of our imperfections.

I plopped my elbows on the table, all my attention now focused on her. "Love inspires art. Writing poetry or doing any form of art is like falling in love. You feel this intense feeling and adoration towards something or someone and you either turn them into actions, paint them into colors, into sweet melodies, or into woven poetry." My eyes lingered into the midnight of her orbs that seemed to glimmer with constellations. This must be how passion feels like. To talk about something with a glimmer in your eyes. This must be how passion feels like. To adore that glimmer.

This girl has a horrible talent when it comes to drawing, I smiled, turning pages once more, I stopped when I noticed a poem. Your touch, a flame that ignites my soul, In your arms, I find myself whole. With passion burning deep within, I long for the moment our hearts will begin. In the soft glow of moon’s tender light, We surrender to the passion of the night. Our bodies entwined in fiery embrace, Lost in the rhythm of love’s sweet grace.

He moved it all around dulling all other senses only to heighten his touch and taste. And despite the limited space, the raw need to feel more and taste more shone the brightest in the pitch black. I'm not sure who made the first move or how my body managed to be shifted from the front to the back. But that's the thing about passion . . . Not only does it sneak up on you, it can consume you. And in that moment it overwhelmed us both to turn the back seat into our own land of poetry.

Make them both fall on the floor with each other. Somehow time seemed to stop spinning. The two people who hated each other looked at each other with unblinking eyes. The distance between them was so clos e, Xavier could feel the warmth of Bianca's breath against his cheek. ** Sinokmput

Starved Passion::: Davin leaned closer and kissed her again, Ivana closed her eyes shut savouring the taste of his lip, Davin remained patient a little, journey of seduction were meant to be savoured, as he kept his hormones in check while his lip searched her mouth. He tried to ignore his body screaming to possess her, the need to plung himself inside her was getting beyond his control as he held her closer. Her body responded to him even when she stood there silently, his torture groans filled her ears as her eyes were filled with the same equal desire which overwhelmed Davin's body as his mouth took possession of hers, she could feel his arousing passion as she closed her eyes.