Lemon

secretly, i contemplate his every move
i study his male boldness
as he leisurely strolls down the avenue
or across any room

his mechanical hands fingering
thick chestnut hair strong and steady
fold together like origami
original and poised; i want to play

im crazy in ruthless hours of ardent fantasy
wondering if he thinks about me
in the still of his night, at home,
within silent reflection, when day is done

i beg for his arms wrapped around me
like a favorite Christmas toy
eager and playful
never letting go.

i surrender, surrounded by pillows;
a silken-stocking muse
i am ready like the blood of Christ
restless sheets and slumber