purple

purple

My breasts betray my mouth’s lie,
And in his bed I
lie
Rational ize -ing
The passion in his hazel eye

His lovelust for me, at once ancient, and fleeting
I, his faithful concubine
My logic defeating
his endeavors to become my liege, my voodoo priest

He brings me rose incense, Sandlewood,
Creating my brew, with leaves from a carob tree
He tickles my nipples with his locs,
And uses Turmeric Oil to anoint me

Coaxing squirming amongst my giggles
Filling the empty spaces with his fast depth
Causing back to arch, whispering my name in secret places
Refusing to allow me time to take breath

Or even engage another suitor…

And as I don my ceremonial adornments…

Gangster pinstripes, with herringbone tweed shoes
Flesh colored nylons, Velvet roses on my cloche
Can’t help visualizing the end of the affair
Praying for the whimper & wane, as opposed to the decompose

Turning up the fur collar on my coat
We kiss
And he says those things that masters say to engage their mistresses
Things like “I like” and “I miss”…

While I think to myself he means them
As much as he can
The analytical in me consoles me
He is as much artist, as he is man

For now, I am his muse
His fire, and his inspiration
But when that flame is doused
With the ash, goes his dedication

What we have burns too bright
Much, much too bright to last
So even if he believes the truth in his words
I know, eventually, my logic will his hopes dash

Against the waves of reality
for he is not my destiny
and I, not always meant to be
his Mousa

so I close the door as I leave, again
just grateful for the passion
that is Just This Very Second
and I Am
purple

©2004 Sagacious Media