- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Helper
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She comes to me at evening, padding light,
To wake the beast within me for a while.
Her gentle touch can make my heart take flight.
The fingers trace a path across my smile,
My cheek, my eyes, my neck, then lower on
And lower still, send shivers to my brain.
I rise to meet her touch, my troubles gone
For one sweet moment. Amidst beating pain
She knows lives hard behind the plastic smile
That faces out. In darkest days the one
True salve, she wisely knows, is to beguile.
To distract, and to pleasure, till it's done.
In fleeting moments, pain can be ignored,
But always there, one never cuts the chord.
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