Body In Dim Light

The snow has fallen in due time.
It's your call to strip down,
naked of the useless fabric that you've put on.
It's your call to lay down by the fireplace,
glowing, magnificent and extremely bare.

Listen carefully to the wood cracking under the force of heat
to gather what you will have to endure under me.
It's a fine line between anticipation and apprehension,
and you have to walk it towards me,
with your eyes closed, your feet denied of all protection.

And when your curves get near, and yield to the warmth,
know that their pride is lost,
and can only be restored by fingers firmer than the fist of fate.
You see, the snow has fallen cold with grief
that calls upon your panting breasts, in need of my attention
to calm them down, then ravish'em away
and leave them tossed and exhausted
and begging for it all over again.

(written in April 2008)