She signed her letters with a spray of her scent and a single kiss,
and I’d hold them to my racing heart,
to heal the pain of our parting.
I would wait by my letterbox with lovestruck eyes,
letting myself loose in the land of the lovesick,
and when night fell,
there was nothing between me and her notes but my négligée,
and that never lasted long.
and so did I,
singing her name into blushing sheets.
I can’t draw but I trace her face with my midnight writhes,
as the sun struggles to sleep,
I am making magic with my desire,
and nobody rests, when my heart is wide awake.
The moon is in Aquarius and her blue eyes are delirious,
I hold all the power in my plump, painted lips,
a cruel confection of dictatorship,
writing my replies as she stands,
casting a soft, sorely missed shadow in the doorway.
She couldn’t resist.