imagined desires

While you beg for answers, I hide the script.

dance with me

Rain on fevered skin; the trees will not be offended by your brute forces and my cries of mercy.

Memories are bruises left by lust and fire. There is something old there, something undone, unravelled.

These forces leave nothing to the imagination.

I want your commandments dealt with precision.

I crave these intimate moments, mutual understandings,

cared for and used with gratitude.

Your mirror shines with brilliance,

I seek you out,

paint you

write you,

carve, taste, and tease you.

This is a novelty, I know.

Muses are rare, let me write the desire and the stories

this vivid mind creates.

Grant me the afterglow of each moment,

and relish each tomorrow.