imagine me draped across a bed casually lying in my nakedness simply that ever shuttered form still in it’s undress.
trace me every line of every curve telling you a tale from my eyebrow to my breast chest rising and falling a breath away from fantasy
imagine me
casually
saying little about this casual intimacy taken no further than looking at what the eyes see and what a body will confess.
trace at ease and in your pleasure the scars that add to not mar my history each one telling a story of who i am and where i’ve been it would be a sin to only see the fantasy as you mentally
drape me
casually in new positions to fuel your need of something not necessarily seen or found in me
postured serene checking you undressing you through slatted blinds of eyes suggesting voyeurism of your thoughts that have you caught between admiring and desiring something similar to and different from what you may have thought you had
intimately
because it escaped you if looking on me made you recall it all from the side-lined collection of your thoughts and passing reflections.
now keenly tracing me the one you see draped casually
breast rising and falling subtly on relaxed breath
waiting
for that moment when YOU will see ME more than casually as i really am when you then cease imagining me and reach for me mentally for the first time.
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"I'm a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket and I'm waiting for my rocket to come." - Jason Mraz