#syracuseruth

      working you so

saturday morning during the rise of the sun

frost melts from the roof dripping from the eaves

dribbling like pre excitement as i work you into my fantasy

all i have is porn and a wish for your hips

to push off your panties in front of a gas fireplace

to elevate your hips on a cushion and position myself inside the silk intervention of your thighs

     lickety split

you naked is like night vision in the twilight of lust

it is gravity in a vacuum

when i feel the soft firm swirl of your tongue

that covers the need the geometry of lust to work its formulas

working you so all the curves joggle with glee

i will find pleasure in blocking your silk hat intersection

      two beers

i am two beers into the weekend after a weekend of delight

and the slippery slope of your desire

i'm two beers into missing the heavenly glide of your torso slip and slide

it was a gentle week of memory smiles

reviewing all nooks and crannies

my tongues slithered into and the sighing responses of your appreciation

         pleasure

i must apologize

your hips deserve poetry they deserve art and documentation

but i have been busy and not acting on those memories dancing in my parietal lobe

just as there are tap dancing angel on the dance floor of my pleasure zone

reminding me

you are not here

and i should be using the time to capture nuances

yet failing to recapture the subtlety of the texture and joy i feel in

      devine

it seems we should always be reaching

for experience and potential

for new ways to define the world and the words that we paint the world with

allowing pleasure to be reexamined and the possibility sweet, tender nuances

giving your kiss a chance

for new interpretations of potential

    liqueur

a week past and it is laundry day

my trashy self thinks about taking the sheets from the cabin

the torrid humid cabin

then distilling our dna into an after dinner cocktail

all the excitement that was not inhaled or sipped or gulped

all that and more

    syracuse ruth

her bike has a motor

and her engine purrs

with rpms measured in the curves of salacious nuance

her subtlety comes in hues of pink and fuchsia

and the pretense that even the colorblind can feel the disney gone blue movie

and you know the sly smile like a bermuda beach

white and lusty

a pleasant thought

to be the cat in the folds of your hips in the luxurious position of comfort

maybe slumber to a dream

and a tangent to sensual design that imagines away

on cotton sheets

as summer whispers the hazy architecture of grasshoppers and humming birds