for B...*

I admit...i don't have to..but i do...
other men sought me...
often...relentlessly...
but...
lacked the fire i envisioned...
the passion i desired...
They left me cold...
heart frozen...words dried up
and trance-like life passed..
before my eyes...
the earth still spun
dreams grew dull
almost forgotten...

and You walked in...
with a birthday gift...
a sunny smile...and those hands
helping to uncover
what i had meticulously buried...
using words that left me shaking...
stomach clenching...
my petals unravelling...
moist..warm...wet...
You opened me...
showed me the vast depths...
of my lovely femininity...

Opening my eyes
I turned to You...
allowing only Your words
to touch me..
move me...guide me...
uncovering my rhymes...
and realised how much
the poet me in wanted to be read...
and so i write
and You bask in the beauty
of my words...my lovely muse...
and thrill at my awakening...

and all i can say is Thank You....
Thank You for bringing me to life...

She seeks nothing more
than an inside desire...
for an outside gesture
A look maybe...
accidentally touching her skin...

She seeks nothing more
than a longing...
that her poorly worded poems
Show you how special you are..
Regardless...

She seeks nothing more
than to catch your attention..
being in your comfort zone...
Songs...music...words
Maybe seeing her would be the answer...

She seeks nothing more than
A tunnel...
An inside desire for an outside gesture..
An 'accidental' touch of skin..
on the only part left exposed by a heavy winter jacket...

Accidentally...

You're such a child..
My muse Man..
Refusing to part
With things that
catch your fancy...
Jacket...guitar...

You're such a child...
My muse Man..
Would you do that
With people too...?
Would you refuse to
Part with me too?

Have i caught your fancy?
With my words..
My silly ways...
My open admiration
For what you are
And what you will be...
I wonder..

You're such a child..
My muse Man..
Always remain so...
And i promise
you immortality in
my poems...
Aphrodisiac most potent...
Immortality...

You're such a child..
My muse Man...

Bang in the middle
Of a summer afternoon...
Witnessing the  marriage
of dust and heat...
Sweat-drenched i daydream...
And am overcome with oneness ..
Yet not alone...

A tap on my shoulder...
A gentle tugging of my hair...
A touch on the back of my hand...
Fingers running unobtrusively
On the veins of my wrist...
Lips bestowing Angel kisses
Behind my ear..

Cajoling...nudging...
"Hey hey...Is it over?
The poems...
The adulation..
The unadulterated devotion
That art has for it's muse...
Is it fading?"

"Silly Muse...
Silly silly beautiful Muse
You are my poem...
the shape of my words
I feel you in each melting-in-heat
Breath...
Never fading...never over..."

Fingers...
Fetish...
Female...

Excitement begins where his cigarette ends...
Music at the tips...
Caressing ebony and ivory
Hands,harmony,heat...

Fingers that caress,grip,stroke..
Plucking on a string...
Music born out of ba(ss)ic emotions..

Fingers that set skin on fire...
Burning flesh into something..
Easily Molded..pliable..molten..

Fingers,centimetres from the screen...
But thousands of miles away...
Stretching like clock hands...
His ahead of hers...time moves..

Fingers everywhere...
Pinning her down...
Then,two on her lips...
That stop her from saying No...
As if she would ever want to...

Fingers...
Fetish...
Female...She..