We sit closely at the table,
Sharing conversations about nothings
Full of friends and strangers combined,
The band begins to play
Your hand grazes mine,
You stand up tall to ask
I step, stride in gentle procession,
Your hand possessed by mine

You turn to me,
Two equals pressing slightly
Eyed but not staring,
Hungry but not starving
I rest my palm on your broad shoulder,
Feeling your familiar fingers tips gently grasping my hip

Your body whispers to mine,
Pushing it in rhythm
I respond to your queuing,
Touching your face and lips when wanting

Guiding not insisting,
Vulnerable and respected
Two people working together,
Towards a partnership perfected

Take me back to the South?
I rubbed a puppy but you made it live,
I held your hand and ego as a ghost rode *****,
I tasted your mouth
Your deep addictive kisses were salty ripe with hidden tears, expectations and confessions of fears,
You pressed me for affirmation with one foot out the door,
My supposition acquiesced to passion
Then, you disappeared

Now you’re here
Pressing me,
Asking me what do I want?
I need consistency, presence, commitment, and time.

What do I feel?
What I feel is
Soul mate attraction,
Unconfined by silence,
Driven, diving, biding
Ineffable, inexplicable, unconstrainable
Uncontainable love and lust
Intertwined and unbound
How do you feel?

Do you have clarity?
For me, it’s taking its sweet time
Dragging and compartmentalizing
The inner unraveling of the unforgiven knot of the unacknowledged
The unpolished
And unabolished.

What do I want?
Excuse me as I try to unpack the dusty boxes,
On my neglected shelves.
I’m not a stranger to love or lust,
But, I’m not a friend either.
I’m not an enchantress,
No siren here my friend.
Nor, am I an open book,
My closest companions are the choir of thoughts,
Who sing songs of loyalty, doubts and declarations,
I’ve wandered but
I want a true partner to walk hand in hand the path of a life mundane,
Stealing moments of hungry happiness, exquisite.

You break down my defenses
Despite all logic and suppression,
Fingers press into mind’s flesh,
Nails rake down your neck.
My heart pounds and my mouth rounds,
Warm wet worship,
Down the base of your inspiring ****.
Your groaning and growing elicit my complete attention,
And, focus my irreverent intentions
To unraveling the bead formed on the cusp of your tip,
Your palms trace the strands of my hair,
Your pleasure drives sated completion
Is it plans or preoccupations of hands?
Are you practicing yet?

For now, as you lament love lost
I’ll sit quasi patient,
Outwardly immobile and facetiously engaged
Damp wanting but waiting,
Quietly watching the two flames in my candle
As they melt and burn the wax around its’ wicks,
Hot but constrained
Destructive but contained.

I’ll be externally reverent for the life carefully molded,
Grateful for familial serenity
But, ever mindful of the calling,
Forged by sound, touch and taste
To an internal dereliction sung by our blue flame.

In the grass,
At my knees
Between my legs
In spite of protest
At his desk,
Beside my waist,
In their closet
Against the wall,
By the pool,
In his __
At the game,
Beside his in-laws
Beneath the table
Next to his wife,
Near his son,
On his knees,
On my car,
With absolute disregard,
With complete abandon,
With brazen enthusiasm,
With unabashed passion,
Without limitation,
Without reservation,
Without a yes
He begged me.

The alligator in my swamp
The hornet in my nest
Whispered softly under the meteor showered sky,
I'm the only one who'll know.

Because he never had a soul,
He never could remember mine.