She Makes Me
©2000 by Carol Marie

Its like she backed up with an air of mischief
backing right into the space I called my own
making me wonder and watch the way she moved
silently yet loud as confusion because she is always saying
she doesnt have the time or the mind to know whats
up with me
and isnt it just ironic that now she is the ultra feminist
a womyn with a loud mouth and all that control
and you know it makes me wonder all the more
what her intentions are when she is crowding me
telling me she likes the way I smell and then asks
if its natural or did I buy it and I have to get red
because my face and pride give me away
so wondering is out, and muted glances may be all I have
better than letting her know shes got to me already

Funny how she moves like hum on a warm summers night
sticky I get under my clothing wondering when the next breeze
will cool off the sensations that ponder in a darkened night
the moons glow the only illumination till she smiles
and I see the whiteness of her teeth and the glistening
upon her lips full and lush and o so inviting

makes me sweat just to know she is up in my space
up in my face asking for a sweet embrace
and then she laughs remembering its my place
that she has come to to work her magic
like she is some kind of witch the way she makes me


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