Helen's Daughter...

Skin-thrill in touch.

Heart-catch and breath held.
Watch her lips as she drops words,

eat them and her mouth both.

There lies all of her for me to taste.
She hides in my heart,

peeks out and surprises me.
I dream of futures in kaleidoscope senses.

Soft conversations and the smell of rain,
warm hearth-fire nights and summer sun
caught in leaves and brown hair.
Laughter and whispers and soft sighs from her hands on me.
Want lies heavy between my legs.

Love lies somewhere else.
The intangible Real.

My body knows only a wall-shadow of that truth,
but in the shadow is the Form of Beauty.

I was in love with Helen's daughter.

I dream of wind swept,

swooping turns,

fingers stretched in longing -
Freedom eludes me.

My wings are clipped,

feet jessed.
I fly no more.

There is a rhythm in the hitch of your breath that marks time in the
percussive beat of arousal.
My tongue flutters against slick skin,

tasting the sharp, splintering bite of woman spice
and your hips arch against my mouth,

kissing me with intimate lips.

Drops of you
fall on me
like the contents of a cauldron of molten chocolate
soul-opening.

But sometimes you cut me
with sharp obsidian eyes
so I flee.

Don't follow
or you'll devour me...