I want to kneel for you on a bridge

I want to kneel for you on a bridge.

On a gray day, on a dark and gritty bridge, I want to kneel before you.

If you asked me, I would comply instantly; the desire for it is coiled inside me like a spring.

In a tiny dress, in black biker boots, my hair blowing into my face, I’d laugh with happiness. Finally.

People staring, curious, at my hands pressed together, their eyes burning pinpricks into my skin until I am tingling all over, until I am on fire.

A breeze blowing the edge of my dress, showing nothing underneath but me, ready, wet. For you.

And you. A ways down, standing staring never blinking just watching. Me.

Your eyes, boring into me, burning my skin, holding my wrists in invisible handcuffs,

Locking my eyes on your face, your beautiful face.

Everything else fades.

My knees ache, scratched on the dirty pavement, but still I kneel crying with pleasure because this is enough.

I want to kneel for you on a bridge.

2 comments

  1. Buddha says:

    Again… just great. Good stuff.

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