Honoring Your Poetry...

She dances.
Her hips roll like tidal waves.
Lethal.
Her body arches,
Twists and bends in rhythmic motion.
She is poison,
Enticing to the eye, nose, touch.
Wet lips, damp skin,
Her every move driven by the need to devour.
She slows,
Sways in a lethargic rhythm.
Hypnotizing.
I want.
I need
To touch, smell, taste her,
But I can only watch her as she dances.



This is a short one I jotted down today. I'm a little rusty at poetry, but I've recently found a new muse.