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The Watcher

dark moonlit night
early morning.
wisps of hair sticking to my lip gloss.
its september,yet im not wishing for a jacket...
lazily sauntering towards my car
the music still follows me
around a corner
trailing
this is my favourite song
i cant help it now,
my hips find that familiar rythym
as hands move up to my hair
fingers dance through tendrils
a cool breeze kisses flesh
then subconciously
they glide
grazing cheek,
fingers trace lines along my neck
farther then
until i find my hands full
grasping at the straps
and yearning to feel that cool breeze
dance upon my skin
pale in the moonlight
then twisting
tweaking
i moan.
my hair
grasping handfulls,pulling
trace the outline down...
zig-zagging across my stomach
searching
until i find that seam between my fingers
up, under
my thighs are quivering
i feel the warmth reverberating
as my fingers find hidden treasure
and my eyes are closed
the world around me forgotten
swirled up in my own private ecstasy
i shudder
and collapse
the ground slowly coming back beneath my heel
lashes flutter open
i blink once
twice
i focus
yes
my eyes seem to lock instantly with yours.

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September 2009

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