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What are you waiting for?
Oh Lord, give me a poet for a lover
whose words stroke me like velvet hands.
Word-tender caresses more reaching
than the caress of a mere mortal man.
A poet's light touch is so gentle.
Word-fingers probe deep every time,
arousing me, haunting me, wetting me,
seducing me, body and mind.
Oh Lord, give me a poet for a lover!
Lust and fire burn in his heart.
A silver-tongued devil whose words make me ache
to be on my knees in the dark.
Word-foreplay making me want him,
only mind-loved, I want to be free
to feel just one time my poet inside,
where only mind-lust up to now has loved me.
