Muse

I’m crazy for a certain Muse.

This real body corporeal.
Sacrosanct, corporeal.

My sense jumped
At the sound of fireworks.

A grand finale
Here you are again.

A gain for one spirit
Dancer heart entrancer.

So much power.
My flower.

Your skin petal soft Cotton
Covered stomach peach fuzz fire.

Under breast and nip
And neck ear lip and lip

And tongue in
Then in more.

Only word in the world:
More.

We never end.
We never leave but believe.

This body is a king's castle.
You are my queen.

My most beloved,
Most powerful peace.

~ Wynn ~

What the heart wants is a slow dance;
The floor is too fast.

A touch too quick is friction in the brush.

The pulse grinds steel against jagged steel
Short shock sparks mis-labeled matchboxes
For a miss-matched lit match.

But the heart wants a slow dance
Friction-less fire.

The hot before the touch.
The heat that brings the communion.

So many ways to say I want you.

Why's lust always fire?

The flower devours the rain.
The wind wants the seed.
The Earth swallows every tree.

How can anyone (anywhere) win anything
Without you right here with me?

The heart wants a slow dance.
Demands one: Now!

Slow slows the strong song of thunderclouds.

Lightning! Flash-spark! Light show!
Wonderful!

But:
Real power rocks
Rolls, growls, grows
Insatiable immediate
Clouds, loud clouds.

Hold. Want.
Hard. Hard.

Until the sky
Can't
Hold. Want.
More. More.

Goes hot
a
Lightning Shot.

The thunder
Shocked, starts
The slow roll
Again.

~ Wynn ~

Daydreaming is not a lonely laze.

To sit still and listen, to follow a dream is to be fed by that dream.

Here I am so many dreams stacked up, but only one.

Still that roaring tide where the want of you matches the dreams envy of the possible touch of you.

How insistent the dreamspace of you is! Even the whirl of each fan reminds, "Still it's her... Still, it's her...."

I continue words to you, and the fans continue, "He's doing his job, he's doing his job, he's doing his job."

As if you are preordained by The Holy Ghost Himself and I charged with this epic fantastical fantasy to reach you.

So many days in and the dream's want of you and the skin's want of the dream, become the same thing.

I am a lifetime of quiet sleepless hot dreams of you.

My urge for you is your touch. My desire, our covenant called 'maybe someday if the world might move a certain way.'

If Atlas' choice to shrug could shake the world to sense the sensible definition of a good life,

If his shake would quake awake the recognition that one element every story must have is hope,

Then to remember each life is a single story in a grand tale called Life, and even the world itself could not spin without hope.

And so, I spin with the World with the hope for you.

~ Wynn ~

She still holds the night under the waves a lake can make.
She still keeps safe the dream of the moon.

A flower, a tree, or you and me, can’t be without the dark.
Too much of anything will kill you.

Someone tell the sun.
The moon shines back the light for you and me and love.

~ Wynn ~