What Really Moves Me

Posted: June 4, 2014 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , ,

When standing at the counter her legs running miles

knees locked, shoulders back

hair flowing in the stillness of the moment

Eyes are drawn to her shapely presence 

small of your back allows my fingertip to slide 

along the curvature of tight buttocks

slipping underneath, fabric directly designed

inner thighs sleek …

She steps forward and finishes her order

as I feel my hand inside my pocket, lonely.

When waiting for her order, her eyes stare ahead

a sleepy, fuck me, slap me expression

drives any man wild

we do all notice as do the women

who secretly imagine sharing the fun

relishing her provocative posture.

 

We need her beauty to allow our lives 

the opportunity to blossom

much like when she draws in her breath

knowing our eyes unbutton a silk blouse

nipples discreet and alive inside a fabric

so yearning to have my fingertips

draw down the fabric to reveal wet cleavage,

her drink is now ready for everyone,

as I feel my hand in my pocket, lonely

Step away to observe an elegant stroll

coffee drink in hand, we will lose her now

she is that essence of sensuality

we need to respect and appreciate 

rather than expect. 

She is woman and simply she is

what really moves me.

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