Fuel

she would shimmer
across my view
in her leather
whip hair
and a clingy
silky accentuator
in exquisite lovemaking
with her writhing
underneath
to make that
ever so thin
cyan fabric
that barely reached
down to cover
the absolute
minimum
rub her perfection
just the right way

and she would leave
before I could say
a single word

but not before
making me
pray for salvation
just out of reach
only barely
out of sight
where the graceful
gorgeous highways
of her innermost thighs
must intersect

not before
seeing the frown
of agony on my face
from trying oh trying
so hard to hold back
that bead of sweat
forming on forehead
dreaming
that it had been born
on her instead

not before
feeding me fodder
to an overloaded
libido

that still
to this day
tap into that fuel
now and then