Erotic and Esoteric

We met in an old re-purposed church
with purple walls
and a sea green ceiling

You avoided my eyes
Often
With wild  wind blown hair and wide
Open ears

It was a 2 iced tea night
And you walked me home
Uphill, in the dark and cold

We forget sometimes
What our real faces look like
Believing our  masks are our realest selves

Yet in the secret
Mostly silent of my small, cluttered living room
Our masks tilted, letting us peak beneath, briefly

And each night after
Like sneaky teenagers we looked
Embracing, finally, the bits of us that don't
fit in

So much of all that might  be seen
is far beyond our sight, so looking
away makes sense

Close your eyes and allow yourself to get lost
Within our other senses
Skin on soft smooth skin
And tongues as flames darting
Around each other
Pressing our pieces together till
The ghost of you finds its home
In the deepest part of me
Inhaling how poetically our scents
Mingle and mix to make
an intoxicating new cologne

I cannot,  yet, sleep easy
beside you.  Your body is too loud
And my body too starved for what you feed me

Your mind might falter
But some somatic song
Of your deepest soul seems to hear me

Trust me
Touch me
And there remains the alluring
Erotic power-call
of
   yet.


~For L.S.