THE INTIMATE DANCE
Slowly kindling as a well stroked fire
Eyes that hunger, fingers that caress,
as I untie the strands to your “dress”
We dance on words around the matter,
coming close, I play the actor
feigning disinterest, though I want you so.
You, the mistress, leading to and fro.
Who’s in control, I care not.
So long as were entwined as a knot.
Tossing ,turning, sheets askew
feeling, tasting every drop of you.