Lust Can
An imagined fire
heating like the sun
borrowing the soul;
sweating with touch,
coveting the heat
instead of the warmth.
Lingering
beneath the surface
with satin possibilities;
hidden expectations
waiting like a match
for a surface strike
not knowing if
it will ignite a flame.
Hands leaving a trace
of want,
a smell of pepper
sensing the naked skin.
This pull caresses
a moment’s sigh;
an imagined grind,
a seeking ache,
a moist breathing
in refrain.
She opens her eyes
to close them again.
He joins the feast.
