Saturday, February 25, 2017

2017 Black Harlequin is on the calendar... Press Release


Preview for Black Harlequin A different kind of romance & poetry. The allure, the passion and hunger paced time’s cavity into the deliverance of some of the most provocative thoughts to give rise to capturing poetic embraces words not to fall short of remembering! From the collection of poetry and blog: http://jocelynisaninternational.blogspot.com/2012/06/its-another-preview-of-black-harlequin.html?m=1 Should you ever wonder and wonder finds you standing on the edge of each page, pulling silence apart, the rise of gravity winding through, dressed in rain, as the way deepens and becomes the shush of a concealed night we no longer find, it's the beginning, as far as the comfort of ends rushing through lips and pages of history, words adorn my heart of you written across uncaressed time as it passes and longs, as heavy dwells, the gravity of the soul of you within, and romance still hangs, beginning over and over again Les confessions chuchotées par aiery de séduction d'Unspoken ont émergé, ont détaché des secrets, vivant, soutenus des questions, déguisées dedans unliked, peu amical, plus des voisins d'intimité loin, dans une rapidité souless se précipitant et l'épave s'échappante se brisante, était presque une tragédie, mais une ombre qui est restée, était comment les mots ont indiqué que les moments dans le temps, étaient le jour et la fonte de leurs silhouettes, pierre. moments qui sont venus unshockingly soulagé, en appelant recevoir l'atmosphère des pensées sur le papier. Le possédant, la tonalité, voix, faite calmer, les questions absentes unspoken Unspoken que c'était la poésie de la lettre. Captivant, était les commencements, l'apogée et la caresse de renouvellement, qui a faite pour l'âge des jours, viennent à passé et à la nudité des mots, la séduction Unspoken Seduction aiery whispered confessions emerged, loosened secrets, alive, born from questions, disguised in unliked, unfriendly, no longer neighbors of intimacy afar, in a souless haste rushing and crashing escaping wreckage, was almost a tragedy, but a shadow that remained, was how words revealed that the moments into time, was the day and cast of their silhouettes, stone. moments that came unshockingly relieved, upon calling receiving the atmosphere of thoughts on paper . Owning it, tone, voice, hushed, the absent questions unspoken Unspoken it was the poetry of letter. Captivating, was the beginnings, the climax and renewal caress, that made for the age of days, come to past and the bareness of the words, the seduction Apart If the sky parted and the clouds missed you, would it still be the atmosphere that belonged apart of you and would you still find the sun in my eyes, if the sky was lonely for you and I, we couldn't miss if it was raining those same thoughts, that broke when it's new like the first drops of love that filled my heart and naked soul, the first sight of you divides and falls before the clouds could clothe you, I breathe and it's true if the sky were ever lonely it was for you and I From the pages …”Black Harlequin” A long awaited affair weds the authors of verses that go beyond the attraction- into the lives of two lovers, poet and erotica. ...dew from a distilled pot lid running over your caress, a bouquet drips from the lips… Trickling sweat multiplied aroma caps that made the storm and hurdled beneath a collar's breeze, pigments of the stock of buds steeped in a well, made from the sleep of a poise's drug and cadence of communication to proceed … Eb chased Emystary into the covers with the brush of his after five on the insides of her thighs, foreplay that drove Emystary into curves of passions, Eb's unbreaking stare braced Emystary as she capsized into the covers, her stomach hardened while Eb haloed the trigger over her spine descending into the cusps of her buttocks, this vogue made way into the next hour. Emystary answered with moans, subsequently dampened by the warmth of their bodies, Emystary changed things up a bit by breasting Eb's pelvis, milking the last energy they could bare as a resting peace broke into a champagne that always goes along with fine dining. The split of hairs, was the count of the hesitation of remembrance foreseen ...it was the warmth of their bodies that rescued them from the break of the frights of hallow night that held while joined their shoulders chin to shoulder and back again, the breath of their spines meeting, passing into the corners of their eyes, hiding the waking parting nearing the close of their time together.Eb and Emystary had come to the promise of another closing goodbye,this time haven lasted the age of fire to ash camped alongside the two lovers and their collected thoughts that poured into the nonverbal composition…It was the break of their encounters when Emystary decided to write Eb a letter of her thoughts.. After the hail pressed on the door, I woke up this morning and ran my fingers through my hair trying to lock in a little longer, to catch the emotions, the thoughts of you along with the smell of your skin when we make love, only you wasn't there, so I placed my hand on my hip to stop the hangover, still shaking. Realizing that I was still in the storm, it was an empty day's beginnings on wanting to wake up with the same smell in your arms, the blush of the sunrise made way for the rays of you, deep into the shower, soft as the cumulus, hands of flesh dipped backward into the storm wound up around us, only to sober what became the realization as the cashmere that I was still wearing and it was the covers that warmed the child of frozen hours, that still remained into this morning after hearing your last presence. Missing you, signed Emystary...