Under This Dress

You man with your words;
Those cleverly woven words,
With the long step, your eyes swept,
Ever so lightly across me -and my breath stopped.

How you soothe me with those very eyes,
Your laughing, knowing eyes,
As we read between the lines
And you move between my thighs - if only in my mind.

And I laugh with glee when you scold me,
Telling me how to do better, be better, and know better
When it has always been me to say unto another

Do right.

And though your mind reaches heights mine never could
I might come close at times, and go further, when you take me.
That mind of yours that thinks such wicked thoughts,
I do know, and it does suit me.

And that damn glint in your eye, ever so sly,
Tells me that you want to try me on a little too.
So my knees weaken, my mind slows,
My breath quickens and my body knows –there is you.

So I dance.

I dance around in my head,
Barefoot upon your bed,
In my torn little dress,
And my hair is such a mess,
Always such a mess,
And I am always in a dress,
Always in this dress – for you.

While your hands that can fix every little thing,
That strike the keys, they strike me – and I like it.

You might even try to fix me,
So you mend, while I bend,
And you crash into me,
Complete me, deplete me, relieve me –

Oh, Please, do it again.

And your hair; that dark hair,
That covers all of your body, will soothe the bare of mine
Brush pink, stroked raw, soaked wet
Rubbed in, the marks of our sin,
For days, the tinge upon this fair skin-

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Am I still unfaithful to write of this?
Or imagine us, as it could have been, maybe would have been,
had we crashed into each other on another day?
I know that I am - but I can’t help it.

And I am certain that we must not betray,
So I should no more say out loud
How your silence, or how your words,
Pull me forward, ever towards you.

Or how you reach places inside
Like no other before,
With your mind, with your eyes, with your sigh, with your smile,
With your hands upon my waist,
Upon my little wrist,
An imagined kiss, this mental tryst.

So I will write of this.

Thrown out of chaos to the page
Thoughts of how all the subtle ways,
Our word plays, humorous displays,
Saved in this head, for still moments or hurried days,
Do bind me to you

No more bold exchange.

So when I am near you, I will laugh,
Because that is what I do
Then I won’t come crashing into you,
And beg of you
To just take me, break me,
Sate me, please make me
Do unto you
Every little thing that you would have me do –

For I would do it all.

Yes, I would if you would have me,
Lay down for you, bend down for you
Be bound by you, go down on you –
And I would swallow you whole.

I would take you into me, in every way
And I would play anything that you would have me play,
Say every word that you would have me say. And maybe a few of my own.

You would like that.

I would wear it, I would bear it, and I would beg you for more.
I would be your little girl innocent, and I would be your brazen whore.
And you would be that man, that impossible man
That shook this swirling girl to the very core.
Damn you, man, already you are

So I ask, is it only in my mind then, or on the page, or in my dreams
That you would make me yours?

It should be.

And the truth of that does weigh heavy, and breaks me just a little, and more
As it shakes me just a little, and more
To know that you exist, but I should not reach for you.
With my hands forever tied, I must remain true, and so must you.

And we might

Unless you should decide, on some weakened night
That you would have a taste,
Not let these offerings go to waste, I would come.
Or if I beg of you, please make this girl right. Oh, god, I might.
And if you do -

We would fall.
Fall forever into the mist, into that great abyss
Of broken promises and broken hearts,
And, I would be that girl after all

That foolish girl,
With the wild curls in her hair,
That swirled into you, crashed into you
And shook you for a little while, when you needed to stay still.

And I would cry; god, I would cry
For this lie we would tell, this inevitable hell,
And the look upon your face, full of disgrace
Full of such disgrace for me, I could not bear.

That is one dress I wish not to wear for you

So I will still dance.
But I will dance in the rain,
And not in your bed
In my torn little dress,
With my hair such a mess,
Always such a damn mess.
And my bare feet,
Soul bare of this sin,
And I, still fair of skin.
I am always in a dress,
Always in this little dress; for you.

I will put these flowers in my hair,
And these braids I shall wear,
As I swirl here, twirl here
Dancing about in your mind, perhaps from time to time

Because, dear, I will always be
That clever girl, that naughty good girl,
That silly, ever-spinning girl; a friend, and a loyal girl.
But always, dear, under this dress,
I will be every bit your girl -

Even if you should never claim me.