Funny how U can b sad/
over a friend U never had./
Weird how U/
about some1 who/
is not yet there./
wistful, wishful-thinking folly.
try to visit your cave.
at the entrance,
I feel the air
and, holding fast,
I let it carry me, aware
that what I’ll see
knowing the words I gave
will lay on the floor of your cave.
She might mistake my self-control and patience
for kindness and saccharin sweetness.
I don’t expect the woman to hold back.
In fact, I beg her to release, to relax,
to accept, to experience the shiv
er of all that I have to offer, all that I can give.
I want her to feel the intensity I can provide
with one brush of the tip of one finger
for just the right length, as it glides
to just the right place, where it patiently lingers.
And when she’s sent to another planet,
I want to be on that ship and man it.
I want to put her in orbit there,
or continue the journey with her elsewhere.