Times have changed

Times have changed
and the lip of romanticism purses
distractedly, introverted -
his inner child climbs up now and owns
the mountain's crown, simple and silly,
beautiful in its frolicking prance,
but so.. uninviting.
I'm left standing in need of something
deeper, a prowess that weakens my knees,
wets my thighs,
melts my chest,
sucks out my breath,
and watches me burn in a sweet volcanic flame of love.
This demands wisdom, a soul-drawn
sentiment, not the short and shallow
inattentiveness of the average man.
When the details, the tiniest change of
color in his or mine eye is noticed,
is a stimulation of desire,
deep want,
deep drive,
then satisfaction will coat my shivering
shoulders and I will feel satiated
belonging.. this destiny of intertwining souls.