(Poetic)
The sweet scent of longing
lingers on your skin
as I run my fingers up your biceps,
intricately placing my hands at your shoulders.
With a smile, you place a death grip at my waist.
Kicking out your leg, we begin a waltz
and I follow your lead, just like a ragdoll,
with my rosy cheeks,
crimson lips,
soft, inviting eyes.
We take centerstage,
we take the spotlight dance.
The heat of the crowd’s eyes is on us
but as soon as they gasp in awe,
you turn away from this reality,
throwing me upon a dusty rocking chair.
My red yarn hair tangles in cobwebs.
Slowly draining are my rosy cheeks,
crimson lips,
soft, inviting eyes.
Silently, you lock the door
and I slump over in my seat, just like a ragdoll,
anticipating my use, once again.