A Rich Man

I read your story this morning. It was the first thing I did following morning thanks and a shower. I'm glad I didn't read it prior to the shower. I would never have left. I was so turned on by the words and imagery. I want the heat that emanates from those curves to tighten around my torso and to make it hard for me to think. I want to dress those naked breasts with my palms and place her perked nipples between my trembling lips; circle their silhouette with my tongue. That was half a day ago and I'm still very much taken by it. 

Aside from being erotic and beautiful, it described exactly how I have felt most of the time; how I continue to feel most of the time. There is something missing- there is a disconnect between myself and everything else. It's as if I know the truth, a secret told to me long before I was ever born and though now a hazy recollection, I know I know something. I just can't remember. 

It's one of the few times that I have ever read something where a connection was sparked. Picture a set of hands taking hold of wires dangling underneath the steering wheel and tying them together. Tiny bursts of electricity jump and crackle. Then, a steady rumble, room-room-room-room-room-room... holds firm. 

I can't yet see the road before me but at least I now know I may begin to move and as I sit here on the long vinyl seat of this 1975 pick-up truck, a verse or two, I shall write for you...


 
a rich man

 
"what piqued my interest", she asked.

the mystery;
isn't that what always gets us? 

the mystery? 

what gal in a white summer dress dances and twirls
steps from where i stand? 

what creature, whose beauty is found
not in her strawberry colored lips but
in the little girl laugh that flowers
from inside her,
waits behind a door i've yet to open? 

what chance is there that she,
who will suspend my awaken hours
and lift me onto a bed of clouds,
while humming lullabies
as she sips and sits in wait with butter cookies and lemonade? 


whatever the chance, i wager it all.

the playfulness amidst polite flirtation with which you reach out,
leads me
to think perhaps the spring which blooms the blossom of possibility,
may be in you.


may i open that door… may my bet make me
a rich man…