She walked up and even I’d admit

it was no accident, we fell into bed.

There’s something remarkable about

the girl and her powerful shoulders.

Powerful perhaps, the hours spent

doing her Yoga exercises twice a day.

Her long lean muscles, impossible really

never needed additional definition.

Of all things, it wasn’t her shoulders

that needed the extra support, but who

am I to say what the the girl needs, or

any girl for that matter, I’m just a poet.

At rest, her skin is flawless, glass smooth.

I draw these tiny little figures on her,

leaving red marks with fingernails.

She arches and pushes back, tracing harder

the tiny little figures, bleed.

She wants naturally rough hours,

in the sheets when we lay.

Each new episode of us falling into bed

there just happens to be an addition.

Something to push boundaries

naturally corners put her fists into place.

Knot-less loops, I wanted to see

how her shoulders would respond

to the looseness, she spun and said,

“Fucking tie them.”

Want vs Need.

The girl needed the power to shift

too pretty to take commands from others.

Something in her, is a little different,

she begs to beg to take her feelings away.

She doesn’t want soft kisses,

she goes to Yoga twice a day

to build her muscles so her shoulders

are strong enough

to lift us both.