Virgin In Her 20's

I’ve built dreams just for you.

My mind can be your escape for a while

when you get sick of runs to the corner store

of luncheon proposals and the typical  one glass of chardonnay

end to the work day.

I house you, like a pyramid, bones.

Thieves might’ve stole the king’s crown

But I will fashion you a throne

of love  if you let me.

Like I said I’ve built dreams for you.

And if I’m gonna dream this intricate, I need the imagining power of two.

A palace the architects sculpt of memory—

glass parlors and mirrored floors for waltzing.

We danced so much the night before, there was music in my pillow when the morning came.

If i might be so bold,

i have the itch to trace your silhouette with my lips

because last night you held me so close

I could literally smell the caramel in your skin tone.

I want to live with you…in Europe

And make love on Parisian velvet decadent in feel. 

Roman cushions upon which I rest in your arms

like an oyster naked in a shell

feeding the hours into your mouth

like a handful of black seedless grapes.

And it tastes eternal.

I don’t know how you feel about Borges or taxes or Darjeeling tea.

I’m not sure what you know about the Khmer Rouge 

or the rolling of handmade Cuban cigars

I’m not sure how you feel about me…

Or if you think about us in your spare time.

But I do know how you feel about words.

And I’m pretty sure our souls rhyme.