Lay your body down, lay it close to me, slide yourself into the hollow, into the shadow,
into my ache, into the velvet crying, yearning for your hot and hard perfection.

Lover…

Are you out there? Are you waiting for me? Are you in a different city by a vastly different sea? Are you bathing in the balmy glow of the moon as I warm my skin in the soft rays of the winter sun? Are you greeting a brand new day while I slide this nakedness into my feathery nest? Are you longing for me, for the intensity, the passion, the intimacy a true union can bring? Are you gazing out at this very moment wondering about the woman, the temptress you’re yet to meet?

First, the reflection of light; splashes of lolly pink and cobalt and blinding white, neon on darkened glass, on mirrored artificial spaces locked up and abandoned for the night. Then, footsteps; my own and those of others, the clack of heels on concrete and blacktop, suited men and women, bodies separately together, the weekday crowd heaving, weaving its way to home and solace, places near and afar, the honk of horns impatient and angry, the wind whipping, chilling, the glowing crowns of taxi cabs speeding down the hill, away from the gardens and the park, towards bridges over water, towards the inky black harbour and its maze of side streets and alleys, towards the sandstone structures with their stories of love and lust and heartache to tell.

And through it all, there’s a man on the corner, a metal piece pressed to his lips. And through it all, there’s a man on the corner, his fingers woven around gleaming brass. And through it all, there’s a man on the corner, his blue note slicing the clamour, the commotion, his blue note arresting my feet and my gaze, my attention, winding its way through my body, coursing, surging, etching itself into this shivering flesh, this blue note inspiring the ache, rousing the longing, the yearning, the vision of his hands upon me, his hands tracing these contours and curves, his mouth silencing my whispers, these words, his sensual kiss drowning, killing me softly, his rough kiss bringing me back to this cold, hard life, his body teasing me, mocking me, his hips grinding, taunting me with the flesh most desired, with the cock thick, hard and glistening, with the cock unlike any other within memory, his cock sliding through the slickness of my folds, his head circling, flickering my plump and throbbing clitoris, his cockhead nudging at the portal, at the point of delicious resistance, filling me with the taste that sets me moaning, with the taste that has me begging, with the taste of flesh, with the kiss of skin, with the second, the instant, the moment where he can truly take me, where his eyes can sink into me, where his sexual soul can see clear, can know me, where his hands can possess this softness, where his shaft can plunge to the sodden limit, to the clutching hilt, where he can fuck me with deep, seductive perfection, where his man can be at one with my woman, where our fucking, our love making, our union leaves us alive, addicted and breathless, shattering time and space, renewing the passion that flows without effort between us, the passion that runs through our lifeblood, through our days and our nights and each season that passes, the passion now called by that blue note, by this lone note suspending our desire in the ether.

Weave your fingers, take possession
Bring me close, entice me near
Tease the ruby lips pining to be parted

Feed your flesh into me
Glide your shaft down my throat
Fuck my pretty mouth
Make love to this tongue hungering

Then come for me
Hard and loud and violent
Come for me
Splash your metal, your steely tang

Then come for me
Give me the flowing river, the ferocious surge
Come for me
Paint this kitten, coat her with your cream

Then come for me
Brand my lips, my breasts, my cunt
Come for me
Sate my craving for the gloss of man

From the tips of these Titian curls
To the pink peaks of this soft flesh
You set me ablaze
You melt down my core
This woman your fire

This velvet
Against my skin

This velvet
Dripping its heat

This velvet
Without your body
Merciless, incomplete

It’s there, right there, in black and white, glowing on the screening, screaming off the page.

It’s here, right here, with the simplest of clicks, the tinniest of taps, it’s here for me see.

It’s here, it’s there, as bright as day, as dark as this winter’s night, for me, for all, for her to feel.

It’s there, it’s here, glaring at me, toying with me, knotting my stomach, gripping my body, crazing my mind.

It’s there, it’s here, your desire. Your desire.

But now it’s your desire, your passion, your ardour, your hard dripping fire for another, fashioned in the language you love so well, in the words that once played our own erotic game, in the poetry that was mine, in the prose you spilled for my aching flesh, in the verse that tumbled from these very lips, in the tongue now piqued by the curves, the sensuality, the femininity of this other woman.

It’s there, it’s here, your desire, in the deep shadows of black, in the blinding rage of white.

It’s here, it’s there, your desire. Your desire and my jealousy.

At once
Light and shade
Vice and virtue
Your woman
Of innocence and sin

When our bodies kiss, when they at long last meet, my skin is no longer hers, yours no longer his.

When we come together, when we are lost to the world but found to each other, when our passions are as one, this second skin of sweat and of fire and of glistening libations, this second skin of man and of woman, of limbs entwined, of uncontrolled pulsation, this second skin conceived of the fever, the hunger, our erotic abandon, this second skin born of the night devoured, the flesh for the taking, this second skin hard and fixed, silken and yielding, this second skin delivers the sweetest possession, the cruellest of freedoms.