Poetry » Love »

Sweet
Author:
IHavePizza PM
Why will we never be percieved the way we want to be perceived by those who love us? Strangely and loosely based on 1950's jazz tunes. But very loosely I must point out.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Parody - Words: 164 - Reviews: 4 - Published: 09-10-04 - id: 1716072
A+  A-   Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten

Little black satin in predictable pattern
Dressed up to the nines in undisputable time
My hair all in place complete with pale powdered face
This is what I got- your lips said that I was sweet
.
Voice of soft slow talk, sashay my hips as I walk
We're heading upstairs, getting rid of all our cares
Then, you close the door and my black dress hits the floor
You peel off your socks, you say that I am sweet
.
Stroking your soft skin and giving in to Lust's sin
My hand on your thigh with a sparkle in your eye
Abruptly we kiss- just two young lovers in bliss
I ask for you more- you smile and call me sweet
.
Now you're fast asleep but I'm left awake to weep
I watch all your dreams, suffocating vivid screams
Just boxed up and torn with no real reason to mourn
One woman's defeat-to you, all I am is sweet
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