Lace

The ceiling fan keeps turning
blowing air on my face
naked and still wet from an after sex shower
I feel my body, cooling down

The night is here
I'm here, all alone
and darkness all around me
you're the dream
walking in and out of the dressing room
at some lingerie store downtown
exclusively for volcanic voluptuous girls like you
I'm the sweat drop
running down your thighs
the poisoned cherry
trapped between your lips
driving at top speeds
on this lustful avenue
this hunger to taste you
these handcuffs to free you
this riding crop to teach you
and an endless desire of you

Have you ever noticed
the morning corpuscle
is trapped in your eyes?
I guess you haven't looked deep enough in my eyes
you haven't seen the mad man, trapped in me
if you did, you would probably run
or surrender hopeless and fall on your knees

But if instead, forgetting all else
you looked in my heart
you would see I wouldn't care
if that fan spinning was an airplane's propeller
ready to tear me to shreds
life doesn't really matter anymore
if I can't run my tongue down your thighs
like that sweat drop
like lace