My legs didn’t work as they used to,
menacing, sharp edifice of the cliff
came too soon as the wind changed
bloodied, bruised legs into the sea
they bleed, as I lift up my spirits.
Filled with tingling delight, I stand there
caught up in the rhapsody off a night,
ardent with pleasure and the shadow of fear:
Who would dance with me?
His arms encircled my back gently
enshrouded in the dark, he came to lead
my head filled off romantic literature on
expectations, disguised as love and romance
my afflictions of happily-ever-after was
beyond the likelihood of fulfillment.
As my body melted into his,
our hips swayed to the rhythmic beating
off our hearts and labored breathes
everything, including the real music
faded into the background as his strong,
sweaty frame enveloped my presences
since the game was played out there on
the teetering edge of pleasure and control
amidst the celestial bodies, of comets and stars.
I glided across as I tried to escape from
the involute position in which he held
me, eyes locked in smoldering orbs as
he could not see elation in releasing
the tension of our taut entwined bodies,
duplicitous in this crime of passion,
since we both are aware that the
animal lurking within is seldom
teetered by good intentions, even if
my maimed legs deserved charity.
Feeling my flesh melting with each touch
my eyes were squeezed shut as he
bends me over for the dip, locking our
hips, gently lifting me up,
caressing my nape, as his lips roils
against my tepid flesh, igniting me.
My aura was dancing as it would
at climax, a glow spread across my face
when the music ended, as we took a bow
I didn’t want to break my languor by
speaking, as his magnetic stare remained.
In our fusion during ‘Thinking out Loud’,
Why then, did we build our relationship
upon the sands of passion?