I wake, to the rhythm, of you
breaking slowly, behind my ribcage.
The orchestral swell;
the auric light, of rosy dawn...
blooming, to new life.

More, than a phantom.
More, than a phantasm.

I yearn, to be wound, around you,
in long, lingering threads,
of bruisy, purple-gold daylight,
and pull tight, as I knit myself,
around your stretched form...
soft-skinned, and sleepy...
pulling you so tight to me,
that your body barely rocks
upon the edge, of the tapestry needle.

Let my legs, be the woven fabric,
that ensnares your hips,
and pulls you, even closer, to me.
I want to feel, your rippling laughter
burble, through your chest.
I want to swim, in languorous strokes,
the fathoms, of your aching mind,
with the ease, of turning your thoughts:
flipping through its dog-eared pages,
like the well-read chapters,
of a readily studied, book.

My arms, seek to hold you,
and cradle you, to me,
lips, pressed to your skin,
plush, and satin pillow soft.

I want to devour you, in rapacious,
repeated kisses...I want to feel
the spring-coiled tension,
above your shoulders, snap, and unwind
relaxing, in helpless surrender,
at my nymphic touch,
as the rest, of you...hardens, like resin
and then melts away,
between my own spread,
buttery thighs.

I want to be so filled,
with the full, of you,
that you spill over, and escape...
I want to clutch your face,
in the tenderness of my fingertips,
and lose myself, in the labyrinth
of your lovely, dreaming eyes.

I need you, like flowers,
need gentle rains, to bloom.
I desire, you...like the prime, of night,
awaiting the the rising moon.

and I wait, for you...
like the guitar string solo,
in a beloved tune.

Camera, lights, action...
Wake up, get up and don't forget to stay up.
Sway n walk but remember not to drop,
this is what we are going to call fashion.
Bring your hips left to right, stand up tall
and try not to fright. Bright lights up in it,
cause every gentleman loves to stare as the
senorita walks up the stairs in her high stilettos.
Smell of fresh fabric and the grip of leather tights,
take it and wear it because tonight you're the Queen
of the ball baby, coming out through the dark light.
We want fashion, poise and something to call Sensuous.
Do the cat walk
Strike a pose and tip to your toes,
cause tonight is fashion.
Competitive looks and reading books, you know you're in
it for the game to win it.

Dear Darling
What turns me on
Isn’t the thought of you
On that date
That you held me
At my waist
Pulling me to you
What turns me on
Is what your tongue
Can do to the moist heat
Between my legs
And I look forward
To a sensuous serendipity
When it’s least expected of you