beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women


Dance isn’t my preferred

Method of expression

Enough that I make

jokes about it

But god when I look at you

How you move

A language that needs only the throb

Of bass to become eloquent

As Shakespeare

That little smile

The sideways lap dance

That makes me a horny teenager

With every dip you make

Stronger and weaker in the

Same hot moment

My heart becomes a

Brass band at

an Orleans funeral

I give permission

But tease me

Draw the wolf to the surface

The holy forest lust

That makes your skin rise in

Gooseflesh when you feel its

Shadow fall across your path

All life is a performance

So step across the stage

I am the spotlight

Perform for yourself

Reflected in my eyes



Instructed by my touch



One thought on “Spotlight

  1. Pingback: Weekend Omnibus | MB Blissett

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