Look into my eyes-
Do you see lust?
In a way you do.
In the blink it takes
To absorb all of you-
your golden brown tresses
you spent 20 minutes crimping
the subtle shades of makeup
the soft lines of your cheeks
and how they bring out the green
of your piercing eyes
when not glossed over
your low forehead and upturned nose
the smooth curve of your chin
the way it leads to narrow shoulders
draped by form-hugging black Bebe shirts
in part so tight because of
ample perky breasts beneath
held up by what appears to be under wire Vicky's Secret
Mudd jeans no belt necessary though
but peeling them off later may be
small Guess watch on left wrist
silver plated no frills
like the small silver band on right thumb
narrow waist and butt supplied by Bally's
smooth skin of just the right tone
warm to the touch and so soft
open toed Dolce & Gabbana sandals
toenails painted a soft crimson
like full lips only 60 inches away
a stride of confidence
awareness of the stares
an occasional smile of acquaintance
and a constant searching need for lust
in watching eyes of passersby-
You want to find that lust here too,
But that's not what I have.
I too yearn to touch,
Yearn to smell, to taste
To feel-
Your warmth within my hands
As it escapes from you in blood
Streaming from wounds I inflict,
Or to feel your breath leaving
Tarred lungs for the last time
As fingers curl around soft throat
And
Crush-
But not the kind you seek.
Lust you seek, and here you'll find
Not that sort of lust.
But you were never specific.
Oops.