I'm nearly always single.
I'm as hopeless as they come.
And woman aren't as attracted to hopelessness,
as I like to hope they'll be.
I could watch with my own eyes,
as you slowly undress to nothing.
Then slip into a gown that almost issen't there.
But seeing is not enough.
I could taste the lingering wine on your lips,
when you come to kiss me, as if I deserve it
just for the way I look at you.
But it wouldn't quinch my thirst.
I could smell your shampoo & perfume mingeling
with your natural scent, as you whisk your head up
to give me those eyes from the side.
But it would only intensify my craving.
I could feel the perfection of goose bumps
riseing from your soft, smooth skin, as I lay my arm over you
and trace my fingertips around your navel.
But I couldn't pull you close enough.
I could hear the words "good night" draw out to
a low, slow moan, as they rise from your breast to your lips
at the moment you sink into slumber.
But I'd still listen intently to your breathing.
I could want you in every sense of the word.
But the word wouldn't do justice to the feeling.
Because I'm the kind of guy for whom five senses,
just aren't enough.
So as I myself drift off to sleep
my last thought will surely be.
"God I hope I dream about "HER" tonight.
