csty2

i can almost hear the water dripping off your golden skin
left reined pants trickle out like smoke rings
my eyes rolling inside my dream
snow filled with your remnants
my muse
i wonder if you can see it in your stride
their bold reach and soft touch
i wonder if the rhythm of your heels
pitter-patter pitter-patter
reveals your heat
beating tear ducts dry
and calling on hearts to nub skin
nuba nuba
nuba nuba
but it is your mind's playground
that hijacks will
and sets it between your clamps
each dizzying ride
a pulse, screams of no...yes...no
but wants of more
the word P L E A S E has no reference
and wallows in forehead sweat
how can ache show such cause
brother 'need' loses the floor
only because of
whimper and fray
does desperation find its polish
for want without its keeper
is a dead weed that finds no other day