by Queen of Spades She danced in a rhythm
Not of this world.
Her spirit sang a song
No other choir could duplicate.
Her eyes held wisdom
That was before her time.
I looked upon her
and wished she were mine.
In her youth, while others yearned
For Barbie dolls and video games,
she threw away those silly notions
concentrated on universal things,
and others couldn’t understand
that for her life, she knew
other things were planned.
As I listened to her
I deemed her,
“Simply divine.”
Light caramel blended
with sultry tones to produce
an exquisite epiphany
of uniqueness and charm.
It’s a damn shame
that no one has pursued her
and demanded that placement
be within her arms.
Cause if it were me,
I know exactly what I would do:
I would leave a note
to let her know what a blessing she is.
each and every day,
and how I’m the lucky one
because she came my way.
And I’d rub her feet
when they would hurt.
And her shoulders
when they would throb.
Fix a hot bath
surrounded by candles
as she would tell me
about her job.
And I would spend minutes
just drinking in her skin:
the mix of softness and hardness,
curve of her breasts
to flatness beneath
before reaching her folds
protecting her pearl.
Oh, I would just love to give her the world!
But I hope that my lips,
my tongue,
my hands,
my fingertips,
my tongue
my hot breath
On her rising mounds
above and below
will do
for now.
And then I would sleep
knowing that an earthly version of heaven
was right in front of me.
