My Woman

There she is the on dance floor doing what she does best. Her presence always takes the rooms breath. All the boys wish secretly they were man enough to have her. The whiskey has me watching this show in cocky amusement. To watch her is art in motion. She swirls the floor leaving trails of color behind. She grinds with the back beat as if an imaginary lover had appeared. Leaning in with a curl of those hips and rolling out with motions only a woman knows how to use. The view is heat and I lean back in my mind knowing I hate to tear away. Slowly I rise for the days toil has drained my body. With coat on and hat in hand I glance back at the dance floor. There she is with all the boys looking at her while she is looking at me. It’s a familiar glance we both know well. Even if I wasn’t older I still could not keep up with her. She is always full on like a beacon in the dark. As I leave the club I resist looking back knowing that if she just gives me the right look I will stay. I shrug my shoulders and think” Take what you can now boy’s, that lady’s mine and when she’s done with you, she comes home to me”. Sleep comes quickly for me and then there’s the dawn. I wake to hear the familiar moaning and creaking of our bedroom floor. Her bath has perfumed the air. Her warm body slides in gracefully beside me. My woman she curls up in and around me, slowly, purposefully, lovingly, all to whisper in my ear. "This is my man and I love him".
FTBAS 2010