A Silent Proposal
I never spoke for him to leave, to follow and take my hand,
But I fear I may have, with something more powerful,
Than the sounds slipping off my tongue and through my teeth.
It may have been the way my teeth bit down on my lips,
-coloring them crimpson
Or the husky sighs that called his name through the hours of night.
It may have been the way he looked into my eyes,
- half down lids, smoldering in his gaze,
Those honey warmth a were looking into the skies and found,
-the universe instead.
The galaxy was now his to love, he had found the looking glass to heavens gardens.
I never used my words - but it may have been the way my hips swayed,
My curbs like temples to be conquered by his hands.
Oh and how I loved the way he roamed over my land,
He loved my valleys and my mountains, my river was the fountain of his youth.
I loved the way his voice purred and called me to the bedroom.
It may have been The way my fingers ran through his hair,
Teaching him that he could enjoy the things he never had,
Smooth legs curled up in his lap, soft lips drawing over his skin.
It could have been my smoothness or the smell I let drift and waft over his senses,
Or perhaps the color of my hair, it's soft curls wrapped around his finger,
Maybe it was the way my fingers kneaded the rocks from his shoulders,
-till his tension turned to sand.
Nails caressing his back, crawling to his chest to draw circles in his silk.
The way my hands smoothed over his body, easing his thoughts,
Erasing his worries, drawing the breath from his lips.
I welcomed him home with arms wrapped around his body and dancing eyes,
-my smile sparkled in the twilight.
I stroked his soul and made it quiver, showed it how to dance,
I lit a fire blazing deep inside him, halting time with my gaze,
And I could feel the crystal constellations threatening to fill the oceans with stars,
Maybe it was the way I rubbed my face against his skin,
Nuzzling his tender spots with affection, building his strength,
He read me like his favorite book, falling in love with my lines,
My letters dripping sweet from his lips, his fingers caressing down my spine.
I didn't speak the words, but my body bid him to come home.
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2016