poem is never finished, only abandoned. ~Paul Valéry
I watch the words play across the screen
I feel them deep inside my bones
Anxious am I, to see and be seen
But they were only words alone.
I feel the flutter of a thousand butterfly wings
I feel the heat seep down my body
Nervous am I, to have this fling
I, for once, want to be naughty.
You tease, I please, you talk too much
I hear you have a wonderful touch..
I for one, will probably never know
Because you speak in words alone.
I wish I had the pleasure
To see your face in the throes
Of passion, to hear you moan
But that can never be
For you speak in words alone.