Anything, what I would do for you if you let me. Every gesture given –

I wear this red shirt for you to notice, my arms and back

calling to your hands – come closer, still closer. This is just

for you (others may look, but I am entirely

looking back at you). And when we are near

enough, I would gather every inch of you against my bare skin,

drinking your touch, diving into you, again and again. So often

we are apart, and my body hears your name – I know

you hear mine sometimes, longing softens my face and in the

morning, I dress with your desire

in mind, wanting at least your eyes to wrap

around my waist, slide across my mouth. Until we find a corner

in this room of talking, familiar faces, much-to-be-done –

a space only large enough for you and I – darkness receiving

our hunger, masking our kisses – my hair filling your

hands pulling me hard against your chest, into your mouth. I know

you will push me back to your edge, disappear – none of this, pretend

ever happened. (I was for you – breasts straining

out of corset, tongue sliding up your throat, fingers teaching

how precious you are – wanting to touch everything, stopped

short of your heart). For the rest of the room, the daylight,

I have no bearing on you, just passing exchange, one

beautiful woman quite like another. Approaching risks your eyes

slap my embrace – everything invisible, except a smile. Best seen

from distance, long glance, focused widely, staying secret

until you look for me. I am there as I am

wanted. Hiding tenderness leaves faint scratches

across your arms, down my thighs  –  lips blossomed leave

flowers behind, glass and water, my absence offers.