Her

My presents sits & skips & dances before me.
Kicks & teases & talks to me.
Makes me smiles.
Illuminates my world.
Sets my heart on fire.

She kicks my feet & tells me no.
Holds her hair in awkward poise.

Tilts her head, such graceful, pretty little thing.
Eyes spark & I ingest.
Gasp.
Breathe & bow & worship her.

She stands afar & I am sad. Anger begins to fuel the fear & distress.
She stands before & I am quenched.
A stricken soul, stranded for far too long.
I love her.
I need her.
Seek her.

I gaze upon & eyes dance upon & search her for the features which wins me most.
I fail each time
Until she smiles once more & I am joyous! Giddy & out of control!

I love to touch her. A gentle stroke, a kiss, a hug.
My fingers glide & pinch behind her knee. I feel her hip.
Her perfect bum. A waistline sharp
Or gentle skin on sensual neck.

I wish to lead or gasp, be led.
& find myself alone with this perfect girl.
I’m in love & sunk & carefree & lost
& yet I know my mental map centres, revolves & relies on her
Being her
& there for me!

I can feel her in my empty arms.
& smile alone without her.

Til grace sends her once more to me
& we play like children all over again
& again.

– on being in love
© ed simkins 2017

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