Thursday, August 29, 2013

Queen to the King

You are ferocious
A king lion
A man unshaven

I spent hours in the royal bed
and have swung through your jungle,
but you don't know me at all

A queen,
I am under these covers
My jewels sparkle through my clothing
Hungry eyes, like yours, don't see them

You are a strange predator
I think to myself
As I run freely to and from you
without any opposition

The things we do are a luxury to the commoners
We surrender ourselves to bodily pleasures
Unchain ourselves from the shackles of the cerebral

My majesty it excites me that you cannot see
The powerful woman fully clothed in formal elegant attire,
outside this bed, with a mouth full of eloquent verbiage

The day has come I’ll return no more
through your doors of carnage
 and into your arms that have pleased just the body

I sit on my thrown,
imagining for just a moment
how you might handsomely rest on your own
wondering if it is possible you discharged
a caring thought into the universe:
Who is that beauty really?

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