Manet's painting of Morisot*
sister-in-law not his beaux
Reclining in an inviting pose
herself an impressionist some chose
Be,
it's the eyes that draw me in
subtlety seductive
with a hint of fear
but freshly lit and duty free
there's no denying
a night time dream of deference
where drips of desire
tumble down
her dainty cheek
no torture, no suppression,
no midnight depression
as those nails start digging in
we cross
then re-cross
in a nearly perfect ring
toro
Pamplona fills the bill
she winks,
it's adoration
a soul she's climbing in
no spilling of tight held secrets
tonight no bull is going to win
Fate,
In the crook of my neck
I feel your caresses
gentle
strokes of a journey
bathed in brilliance
comendeering the angels
but much prettier
suppressed my senses come to life
dancing to the music of love
lifting out of the breeze
and her tease
her taste
a habit worth holding on to
none the richer
I am poor
as your wealth enters my door
the key has been passed
as tongues swirl
with warm words
spilled in more than whispers
our world watches
time stops as has my heart
it's 333
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