|
Sitting late at night,
Listening to the rain hammer on the metal awning
And grooving to Duke Ellington playing
I Got It Bad and That Ain't Good,
I was just thinking how divine it would be
To have an intelligent man love me.
Who'd know instinctively
When to send me blood-red roses by the dozen
And ply me with Godiva,
Not just for anniversaries
And holidays, but for no occasion
Knowing I am a flat-out sucker
For romantic gestures.
A man who'd immediately grasp
The erotic potential of an orange,
And who'd love to watch the Marx Brothers and
Three Stooges with me.
A man who'd never begrudge me
Moody, dark, Ingmar Bergman films
And would laugh with me watching Steven Spielberg's latest.
A man who could tap his foot to Bonnie Raitt
And just as easily relate to the aria from Madame
Butterfly by Pucini,or Bach's Fugue in D minor. A man who'd hold my face in his hands
And kiss my eyelids
Like a Monarchs' wings fluttering over new blossoms;
He'd make love to me until my skin shimmered with sweat;
He'd know to pull my hair, as he kissed me deeply
And he'd understand the erotic power of telling me
I belong to him...that I am his.
His loving would be strong...wildly erotic, heartbreakingly tender;
He'd make me come and cry, all at once;
Make me beg him in an urgent whisper for more.
He would understand I need to see that confidence in his
Eyes; his knowing he can reduce me to an ember with a
Certain Look.
The sexual bond between us would be mystical, compelling,
Irresistible, and life-altering.
We would know each other.
He'd never pound at me, come, and then roll away,
asleep before he stopped turning.
He'd be a man I could respect, adore,
Worship in my woman's heart;
A man whose philosophy I could respect;
A man I could discuss my work with
But comfortably keep part of myself from
Knowing he'd understand that, and never feel deprived
Because of that need to have something that is only mine.
He'd be the kind of human that has the same need.
He would inspire me to be the best woman,
The most woman
I could grow to be in this life.
He'd make me
Care about That.
He would be my Dearest Friend and Confidante,
and I His.
I could tell him most all my secrets, and would
Want to.
My heart and soul would be safe in his keeping,
And he would understand the legacy of pain I carry
Would seek to love it into a dim shadow of a memory.
For such a man,
I would do
anything...
all I want from him
and more
I would gladly return twofold, joyously making him
My life's work
...If only
I could
find Him.
|
|
