A Few Moments

I’m more curious about you than ever. I wonder about you even in my dreams. I see your face flash before my minds eye, like some fascinating craving. Remembering the scent of your skin, I can almost taste your sweet essence glide across the clasped hands of my senses. I wish to feel your weight on mine, again and again. Your voice is missed like the morning dew on an afternoon bloom. It seems all I want now, is to be bathed in your attention for a few moments and held onto with wisdomatic intention. If only you knew my tortured existence is vying for you…. You may very well condemn me to my far off kingdom- Exiled for falling in lust with the thought of you on my throne with me, wanting me, needing me, fuckin’ me, feelin’ me; fueling my fire. Poetic justice is born in the thought of you thrusting your passion into mine, a head on encounter, heat-smattering collision. It’s a condition. I beg that such a correlation is not so very withholding. Some pleasure is so good it hurts. I imagine that’s what it would be like to satisfy my new semi-addiction. I urge you to illuminate my poetry with your motion. I don’t expect to justify my cravings for your flesh, or my hunger for your mind. I only wish to explore them. I haven’t forgotten what you said OR what you’re all about,but I still want a piece. Maybe, even seconds….