Figure Me Out
When I look at you,
can you know I love the grace,
might the way your eyes
provide me daze
of fanciful imagination.
I want to see you,
not simply that portrait from a public day,
but the inner soul,
that tease of internal passion that when you lie upon
I can then see the desire, the implosion
I might taste if you allow me to be near your beauty.
For now, I wonder if just seeing you is enough,
or is reality part of the obsession
with fulfilling our need to balance an arousal
shared by everyone …
far more enticing when we share,
yet, I haven’t known you,
my fantasy has, and deep inside there is a wealth of
love and respect
every inch of you,
when a drop of oil,
might give your lips a parting,
breathe sweet gasp.