She comes in,
and I enjoy the sight of her.
I imagine how her lipstick
Will feel when I smear it across her cheek
with the ball of my thumb.
We play with one another
on many levels
It is tender,
and I shudder to not be crude with it.
When she is about her life
And I mine
The mercurial grace of her intelligence
I do not put her upon
A pedestal
She would step off
At the first opportunity
Come in close
For an embrace
I retreat and advance,
Taking her bottom lip
Between my teeth and
Biting down hard enough
To make her sigh.
The strength in my hands
Serves us both and
I touch her like she’s nourishment.
Her breath,
Soft and ragged
Makes the hairs on
My neck stand up
I am not needed
And so, to sit there,
Stable as the earth
Beneath
Waiting to be wanted
Again
MB Blissett 