She plays too much
She gets herself on the naughty corner
Maybe much too often
When she’s on it
She likes to go on top
He knows it too
and takes a backseat
He is fascinated,almost turned on
His eyes tell her to show what she’s got
And show she does
On his lap,she is a rodeo queen roping a bull
A belly dancer ethereal and enchanted
A wind rider with hair dancing with blown leaves and petals.
She is not out to please him and he knows it
He is pleased all the same
She is quenching her own thirst
she’s had it all her life
It gets deeper each time
He can’t reach it.
And neither could the one before him
He can barely scratch the surface of it
He merely sits back with a wry smile
And lets it happen to him
He cannot satisfy it
He cannot satisfy anyone
Its better to let her have her way,
And feel used later.
He wants more than she gives
But he cannot have it
He has learnt to accept the crumbles offered him
After a more audacious man,
Has swooped in to steal and subdue her spirit.
He never talks himself into staying on the naughty corner with her
He anticipates it.
Like a vulture
He is patient,
With the rotten ways of a smelly buzzard.
He eats the crumbs off the eagle’s talons and
lets a part of him be stolen,used and punished in the most sensual of ways.