In mere moments or seconds of rhymin'
You can spread the thighs of her eyes
and put your mind in.
Signin'
Language of words in action.
Lacked the physical attraction
but crave the interaction.
And so be passive magic.
From rigid to flacid.
Destined for tragedy
With visions of majesty.
And nothing else.
A pause.
"...staring at my hands, waiting for the slickness to surface on the palms. And peer out the window again..."
Feeling burning glances,
Crossed arm stances.
Once enchantress,
now she's danceless.
No kisses or hips to barter
For temporary exchanges
with tentative partners.
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