Fixated on Beauty and Eloquence
Do the two balance one another,
the words that describe her,
if in the same room,
will they fight for position,
or simply be.
Is it the lust I feel when she,
the drawn eyes and painted smile,
her fingertips tease the hem of her skirt,
while an askance I gets caught looking.
Is it that mystique,
the knowing reasoning in a man’s mind
when she in his presence causes his fantasy
to stand in her boudoir to observe
the slow delicious process she practiced
to dress herself for
I mean, it is just a coffee,
what would go through his mind,
if upon a sexy soiree,
he encountered her in that little black dress,
seems traced and hand measured with a fever
to her every contour.
Is it him, or could it really be her
that creates the stir
makes him wild in his need
to have her,
beyond a simple want.