Wanted and Dire

Love has gone from frigid nights,
Where someone once found their first delights.
Love is in the act of looking like love, and that’s where I’ve been.
I’m sorry my dear, if I have the right to say,
I didn’t understand what I couldn’t portray.
It wasn’t right, flapping flesh in coarse white light.
Will he who says ‘so it is’, be forever doomed to hidden bliss?
People understand what most prefer:
Calling him ‘daddy’ and spanking her.
But you understood my desires,
And to yours I always inquired.
In these ways we transpired,
Our love was personal,
Wanted and Dire.
So please let me give you want I know you want,
A caring caress, nibbled ears and bitten haunch,
And we can share our souls through our bodies,
Instead of missionary with so-called ‘hotties’
Those frigid nights are so far gone now,
When shaky thumbs traced your brow.
And hours were spent in movies and on couches,
Talking and kissing in memory’s pouches.
We were innocent once,
Once our desires were pure, objective and complete.
Love used to live here.
It was lost in vain hunts,
It was forgotten when strangers would meet,
But with you it again feels near.