Follow with Your Legs

This was writ two years ago, during a burst of erotic and romantic poetry to Abstra, the muse who does not really exist (or at least has not been fulfilled yet...do we have a contender for this most coveted title in the Lady Jaz? Time will tell...)


Follow with Your Legs

wrap your arms around me, lover,
follow with your legs,
I'm not the sort to coit for sport
and not the sort who begs.
I would give good for bartered kiss,
I would give all and more
and would not count you less for this,
a soul is not a score.

wrap your arms around me, lover,
let me smell your skin.
let me hear, as you draw near,
your sweet release begin.
I would hide what is inside
though in your flesh I'd be,
to make complete, atop the sheet,
a passioned symphony.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.