Sometime sitting in a
smoke filled bar late into the
morning hours staring soulfully into the eyes
of a wanton fantasy seems almost
magic.

Like an addict I am drawn to your face.
I see delicate touches of tenderness
draped in the sultry, sweltering heat of
a woman who plays sexy to her core.

Perfect features smooth lines and subtle curves
the heat of her prescence calls to me like a fire on a snowy day.
Basking in the possibilities while never daring to let go of the
understanding
that standing too close could burn with the fire and fury of
infidelity. Never wanting to loose that aura, standing just down wind
enough to feel the heat as it brushes by on your breath.

Sitting in that smoke filled room feels
like time laspes as we talk around what we
both so desparately want.

Ta ta for now