Moths to a flame - A Poem About Attraction
From the shadows I watch them flirt and flutter
Helpless to resist your artless sexuality,
drawn like moths to a flame.
The air hangs thick with wanting, pulses with desire.
Do you see it, feel it, I cannot tell, for you give little away.
I find myself amused by the play before me,
as each in turn falls under your spell I see the changes.
Gone are the barriers, replaced with wide wanting eye´s,
and an openness of body, all reserve expelled by lust.
Intrigued I turn my attention to you.
What is it that draws them so wantonly, I have to know.
As I watch you sense my interest,
for an ageless second our eyes meet and hold.
Caught like a voyeur, unease and the guilt of forbidden arousal forces me to look away.
I fluster but am awed by this tableaux,
like a child hiding behind fanned fingers I watch again.
I note your youth and beauty, your feline grace,
the sensual curve of your mouth, and those steady inviting eyes,
who´s gaze would melt the most frigid soul.
I am spellbound.
Unable to resist I step from the shadows.
Cautiously at first I test my wings,
You catch and hold me with those hypnotic eyes,
I feel myself flow into you, aching with desire.
Now I´m like the rest, helpless in your light.
Yet knowing should I fly too close,
my fate is sealed, I´ll burn and be forgotten.
For yours is a cold flame, calculating, using,
it take´s but does not give.
Feeding on the adoration of those who flutter,
Leaving them in darkness when you´ve had your fill.
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