What Shall I Do For You, My Dear?

10:22 pm 08-11-2012 A poem written on the truth.

I sometimes lie on my bed alone, and listen to piano notes swirl around my head
And twist my stomach in stormy winds, a swaying passion that lingers.
And I think of you as my lips are dry and my chest is pounding.
I have dreams that I take you against my skin so bare, hold you with soft hands,
And my never fading smile has tears in the creases of my mouth,
Running towards your chest in stream that say it's elegance you are adorned in.
Yes, I dream of the most detail some nights, the days where we can be so carefree.
I hear you whisper my name so luxariously, and I melt right at your feet.
I cannot wait this out, I somehow realize, that I must have you close before I am lost.
In the end, your hands are still waiting until I can take them,
And I sometimes imagine the way you will look at me in a summer gown,
My laces of cherished grins and laughter.
Oh, I continously wonder how you will taste, how your skin will burn,
How your scent will dizzy me.
I wonder and wonder until I cannot sleep.
I dress you before my eyes as a God I shall never forget to please,
Call my Dearest Sire who keeps me all to himself, a slave I am to you.
So the storms are brewing and the lions are cowering as you step forward.
My hand is yours for the taking, my heart still entwined in your veins,
And as I close my eyes in this moment,
I slowly smile at memory you and I share, days where a kiss is blown,
Our first statement of the eight letters so hallow.
The piano is quiet now, but my heart is still the voice of God bellowing,
The beating in my chest, the quick rhythm all because I imagined you looking at me.