Ode to a Poet

Sitting across the way, in a circle of friends,
the surrounding world receded and
in a failed attempt at amiable amenity
I saw only you.

An intimate conversation
with a virtual stranger,
significance borne of steel gray eyes.
I feel Rumi’s words vibrating in my chest
   "Putting my lips next to your cheek,
   Pretending to talk privately”                 
secrets whispered in the midst of a crowd.

A sweet and tender interlude
Unexpected, but welcomed nonetheless
A moment with a visionary artist,
Doe soft eyes and petal thoughts coupled
with sinewy hands and stalwart stature
bore witness to a sensitive man
whose hands could caress or possess as his mood desired
or lips gently brush or roughly bruise mine beneath them
were we to lower our guard to the confines of gentility and fidelity.
Your figure is slender, unimposing
and yet, beside you,  I find myself subconsciously preening.
Without malice or even particular intent,
In your presence, I become a seductress of mind and body and soul.

A shared lust for connection with our worlds,
hearts willingly ensnared a hundred times in a week
by the silvered wood and peeling paint of folk and lore,[MMA1] 
the texture of life’s tapestry and
a curious craving for the company and context of
the God-fearing,
the Native American - African American wannabes
or the sugared southern ladies.

A love of women,
The private privilege of knowing a woman’s body,
the pleasing surrender of touching and tasting
curves, clefts, bellies and breasts
with our hands and lips and your cock and my cunt.
Our lovers lost and gained and lost and gained.
Your falling in love at the fruited ripe of life;
her essence revealed as she unfolded
bit by vulnerable bit

A renaissance of mind and spirit,
words and paint and thought that cannot be contained,
boiling over the edges of a life cracked open.
A creative light so bright it could blind those
who prefer the dark,
but not you.

Reclaiming that which was lost long ago,
scents and senses redolent of a lifetime ago;
of firm breasts and a belly unscathed,
of red wine in the summer and verse as free as the wind.

A moment with a poet;
a translucent slice of the most sweetly, decadent dessert.
I immersed myself in you
and was inspired.

 ~ Mk Michaels, 2007