You said you wanted to read the things I write,
so I’m going to take that as an invite
to push you down the rabbit hole of my mind.
You know, I think about you sometimes,
in a black tank and booty shorts skin tight,
thinking that maybe for just one night,
I could show you the divine
between those deliciously thick thighs.
I’m saying I want to help you unwind
on our off days,
we could do it in a clandestine way,
and play naughty cloak and dagger games.
I want to have you relaxed and reclined,
while I erase any tensions that may have arised
as a result of living our hectic lives.
You should come see me when you have some time.
I should say I’m not trying to be your boyfriend,
and if you’ve got one then I’ll ask,
“Are you bored yet?”
I wouldn’t judge, I’m just trying to help you forget
with a nudge, to the dark side of my forces from above.
I’m trying to speak to your third eye,
with words that help you visualize
what might occur just about anytime
you let me put my hands on you.
Coconut oil massages that lead to
intimate introductions between two
breasts and two hands
about to journey through wonderland.
I think they’re really cute
and deserve to be loved on,
I’m talking about your petite handfuls
that give me hard-ons
every time I can steal a glimpse.
I imagine pinning your wrists,
while pulling aside your thong,
and making you dance
to the sounds of your own song.
With deep breaths to keep the bass heavy
and those sexy purrs to keep the melody,
what can I say, I want you next to me,
so that I can show you ecstasy,
until you beg for mercy.
I don’t even have the words that rhyme
for all the absurd things that come to mind
when I think about entertaining you for a night;
or three;
or thirty.
I’ve been dying to pull your hair [redacted],
I know I’ve alluded to such at work
but for the sake of appearances I just smirk,
while giving you an eye fuck from the sidelines,
because now you’ve seen into my mind.