I am above her in a picture hovering.
I am in her dreams hovering, a reflection of the picture.
The candles light the way for a union that is to come.
She sees me as the one who touches the flesh.
I feel her skin as electric even before the first contact.
My tongue is like fire of a special sort.
It feeds her flame in all the places that give meaning to a woman.
The things which make the man in the picture are on her.
They devour her in a need to release her lust.
He revels in it, it sustains the nature of this animal.
She grabs not just the man but the essence of what she is looking for.
She takes hold of the animal she truly loves the most.
It is an image, a fantasy but all the more real because it was born in
it was born in a girl who did not forsake the original man.
She saw his passion and knew that it was her strength.
What came from his body was as wicked as sin.
And as needed to her as the air she breathed.