She’s waiting on the fringes
Of lust and affection.
I’m just a shout away
From her exclusive attentions.
How does the story
Play out tonight?
Is she due to return
For another sensual flight?
What will she wear and
How will she want me?
Is she at all aware
That I’m screaming, love me?
It all means little
As the dance progresses
Between the waltz
Of a million lost guesses.
I’m weak and I’m lonely
And I’m sure to succumb
To the way that she rules
And the way that she comes.


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Filed under poem, poetry

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