With plain speak on my mind
I still trip every time,
I come across her words.
Words that are dripping wet
with expectation and want,
the desire to please.
There is this certain pulse and beat.
It would be tragic if,
we never made a duet
a mixtape of our words,
dancing and flirting with each other
against the dark dreary edge.
These cold winter days
are the times we’re entwined
looking for a way to remove the warm blankets.
To lay naked in her arms,
watching as she writes
to all her fans.
I want to dance around her thoughts,
in her eyes at least
there is this amazing place
that makes it hard to forget
how her special kind of attention
could ever go unnoticed.
The sparkle in her charms,
she can’t help herself,
but to say that one word
that triggers everything else.
I’ve had just one, like her before
up in the wind and sky
she spun around us both.
I sometimes worry about the fall,
but while you’re in it,
something everlasting makes you think
you’ll survive, like you’re the lucky one.
She begs for the torture binding,
where she’s tightly tied
to a set of commanded words.
She likes breaking the rules
the spankings and everything
that go along with it.
She likes the part
where she’s supposed to obey
and from around her throat
she freely gives that chain
that’s fastened to her choker.
Time and attention
will always be hers,
especially when she wears
the evidence of last night’s kissing hour.
All across our room
she smears her lipgloss,
and I have no other choice,
but to go right along with her
lighting all the candles.
Our dance, is a balance of course
inevitably we fall and laugh at each other.
The duet of words
will start as soon as she uses
that single word she knows,
I love cupped and whispered.
Her entire little body is balanced
on my left shoulder,
she closes in and uses the word.
I get those child-like chills
she takes her black eyeliner
writing the word on my hip.
She says wait while she grabs
and takes a series of pictures
from her big fancy camera.
The torture in loving her
I find her pulse as we kiss
press two fingers to her throat
hard against her skin
the beat quickens
we collapse in a heap
and start all over.

2 thoughts on “A Duet of Words

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