Left Simply – With Beauty

He’s my muse,
Maybe he’s forgotten,
Unable to feel
My arms,
How I’ve wrapped them
So many times,
Squeezing tighter,
Within my mind.
He’s the attraction
I adore,
The lust upon my tongue,
Yet I cannot reach him.

Left.
Aching with want
Living amongst the borderline,
Of am I enough.
I yearn for his trust,
As he longs for my mind,
If I give it away –
Then what?
He’s mine – my wish,
Like a daisy chain around
My neck; a gift.
I’d wear him with pride,
If he’d ask.

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Brilliance in Fawning

Whispers in the depth of night
Whites of our eyes shining bright
Lips in movement
Words offer our reality
Conversing in shallow tunes
Touch, leaning into the heat of you
Expressing thoughts; gift to thee
Without fear, fate leads the he and she of our bonding.