She waits for me. Sitting silver pale with a high hat.
She waits for me. Always center stage but backed away from spot light.
She’s teasing me. Baring hollowness beautifully
I know. That it’s my hands that give her a heart to beat.
Pounding out the rhythms for my symphonies on her timpani
Watch my violence sweetly be her ecstasy. Gaze breathlessly
While I’m filling her with my echoing lusts
And though your eyes shift away to brighter things remember it’s her.
It’s me. It’s we, who drive your feet and mimic your heart that pumps.
And when I’m spent and you’re not quite satisfied I’ll leave her.
And She waits for me. Again so hollowly. Never knowing
If the next time I come back to her I’ll tear her apart, or play the encore.