Your Siren

I want to be your Siren, irresistible as the ones in legends old. Hear my song and turn to me, heart full of questions and desire. Fight the urge if you must, but then embrace the succumbing. Unlike the tales told in Greek mythology, I don’t desire your demise. I won’t have you wrecked and ruined on the cliffs below. Yes, I want to tempt you. I ache for you to dispense with caution and fall under my spell. Because here, with your head on my breast, you will find what you’ve been seeking.


7 thoughts on “Your Siren

  1. I find red lipstick sometimes has that effect (ode to your default picture).
    Few things are more lethal than a woman armed with red lacquer on her lips. It’s surprisingly unassuming when you see her wear it, too. Surprisingly, because you kind of expect her to be so empowered by it, that she would send a fleet of naval ships to war. But a woman worthy of her blade of blood-red lipstick is like a physicist that can choose to split an atom. She doesn’t need to use it to know that she had that power.

Talk to me. Please.

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