The words are sitting there perched waiting to be articulated,
I can feel it somewhere within, perhaps in my spleen,
Not sure what a spleen is for but perhaps to provide a place for the words to perch,
I am certain that once they are released that deep ache will be stretched,
That inner tension will finally have relief,
The same relief felt after paddling the pink canoe mid ovulation,
Feelings so deliciously rich like licking a giant spoon dripping with dark chocolate icing,
Do these feelings radiate?
She said I was attractive,
Not new, but I grin every time I get her to say the words out loud,
My romantic heart once again swoons,
In love with the soul of a woman who will never be mine,
But that love.
That love is mine.
Amused, amusing, how terribly cinematic I depict life when in this mood,
Very fairy tell the very flair of these words,
Reruns of my cinema worthy edited past,
Every ex, every candle lit cuddle, every black and white filtered kiss,
Precious attachments captured and stored,
Until they are once again explored.
No regrets,
Blessed for everyone woman whose ever arched her hips,
As I parted her lips with my tongue,
Grateful for every vulnerable hello and goodbye,
Honored for every heart I’ve held, however brief,
God is definitely a woman,
If you doubt this, then you’ve simply never been with one.
