The Thirty Day Love Affair

With Your Panties

You are gone

For thirty days

Across the globe

Far away.

It’s crayzee...

We just met shortly before you left

Right before the New Year.

But it was good.

It was strong.

It was effective

And lucid and dreamlike.

After so many bouts of making love

Just being carnal passionate animals

We would look up at the clouds

Passing quickly before the moon

And just pause...

We would lie twisted...

Fucked wreckage...

Bodies

Tangled

Minds distant...

Electric pulses...

Interplanetary travel...

You took me places that I had never been to before.

I would look at you

A beautiful woman

Moaning and gasping

Grabbing me

Completely in the moment.

I was there

On shards of moonlight

Cutting into me quietly

Delicately

Opening and exposing me

Alive

Bleeding in that very minute

As elbows were rubbed raw

And I had yet to notice.

Inbetween we would breathe

And talk

Saying sweet lovely things.

Dec 30th.

4:57 pm.

I got your text:

‘Bye bye sweetness’.

And you were gone

Leaving on a plane

From JFK

Traveling

Halfway across the globe

For thirty days.

I found your panties

That you hid in my overnight bag

Buried down within

The toiletries and toothbrush

Shaving cream and razors

Lotions, scrubs

Creams and oils.

I’m like a girl with all of the shit

That I carry.

They are

Pretty black lacey things

That I have never seen on you

But I am now imagining you wearing.

They are hot

And they smell good.

A mix of you and your perfume.

I have no doubt

That these pair of panties

Look good on you.

I’m having a love affair with your underwear

While you are away.

I’m breathing them in...

Dragging them across my teeth

As I stare out my window

At the sharp winter moonlight...

Writing poetry

As Persian music

Plays on my stereo

I’m feeling sultry and exotic.

There is a rhythm in the music

That is keeping pace with my heart

As I imagine

And yearn

While my elbows heal.

My mind wanders

And desire builds

For the next thirty days

Until a far away plane

Infused in incense

And glowing colored silk

From another land

Breaks through the dull, smoggy Eastern sky

And touches down

Wheels screaming and smoking

On a long runway

At JFK

Airport.

Shiva

Dances

His cosmic dance

Pressing

Jasmine petals

Beneath his

Painted feet.