Inspiration

The hand reached up to her
Beckoning
Like it had began to do every night, recently
It was a welcome sight
Knowing that drifting away would solve all problems
It wasn't sinister, or scary
It just waited, quietly, an open invitation, just waiting
It was a combination of alabaster and black, shades of the two
And it was reaching, always reaching
Well kept flowers were watered and cared for year round
Yet the colors were always white, gray, black
It was more than the cold unfeeling hand of a mannikin
It was thicker; more complex; stronger
Actually it was more than a hand
It was an arm reaching up from the elbow from down below
Every night it greeted her and she went down
Knowing one day she would stay
But for now she had her dreams and her adventures
The sweet escape that made her existence sustainable
So she took lovers, in erotic and exotic ways
sometimes waking in a sweat
Her sheets soaked
Her pussy throbbing
Her senses on overload