She crosses her legs, my words
Entangle in her stockings.
She leans towards me,
Her breath massaging my neck –
Our friendship closer than my own skin.
Bare shoulders shrug,
My mind goes into orbit,
My pulse racing as her smile
Slowly takes over the room.
A mere mortal she drags me onto
Mount Olympus, the sheer sides
Of her thighs hold onto
My eyes. When she laughs
Her head is thrown back
Her soft neck, her throat,
Tormenting my hands,
Though my fingers are empty.
We part without touching.
She walks away, the rhythm
Of her hips pounding my heart
With that rounded, tightness,
I will imagine throughout the night,
My hands still clinging to her shape
At dawn.