Curious

don't think i didn't
notice your fingers playing 
with that little string

laced round my ankle.
a little bit bound to you,
mistress in waiting.

i am one who waits
and i enjoy it greatly
waiting on your love.

there's something about
the way a curious boy
pays full attention

to whatever is
under his tongue or fingers,
the way he will play,

give himself the chance
to really feel her all out,
get all up in her,

binding her body
to his body and his love,
separate but still

whole. something about
this feeling makes me swollen:
an invisible

meaning, when you touch
a place on me that is yours.
(and yes, we know it)

what is this about?
you asked. it's intelligence.
your eyes see my eyes.

your heart sees my heart.
your smart sees my smart, fully:
your body loves mine.

don't think i didn't
notice your fingers playing
with that little string.

like you, i notice
most things. your intelligence
sets my heart on fire.

---

PS. I know you're counting the syllables, thank you.