When she stretches in the silence of her own room, can he hear
her soft moan as she remembers him? Naked, her breasts heave beneath 
the thin cover, sensitive to the cloth touch, imagining his hand 
cupped nround her to raise the  rosebud to his lips and tongue. She 
sighs. The petals open between her legs, welcoming the sense of him. 
And she can feel his presence, warm flesh against hers. Can he feel 
her hands drawing him to her, her hands between his legs, caressing 
and coaxing. She looks up and in the darkness sees his eyes. She 
smiles. Can he see her? 

     He just needs to turn off the light...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ and in her book, later, she adds...~~~~~~~~~~

He sends me images of women
naked breasts
bare round bottoms
poses that 
suggest-
invite-

This one today
has a name
"Delta  of Venus"
It  shows the curves of  a woman's  soft belly
the dark  tuft of hair
between her legs
there is no face
no arms
no movement
save the imagination,
anticipation
of the hidden garden.

He hopes when he sends such art
I understand the spirit
of the sending
gently afraid
I might reject his desire-
Why?

Why would I reject his gifts of passion?

His ovetures of 
wanting  my body
against his?

 Wanting  me to open such legs and wrap myself 
around his nakedness
that he might enter
the Delta...
enter me?

I am not Venus
yet I am 
when he sends such images

when he sends himself....
a gift to Venus


© RJD 12/15/98

     eyes never leave hers...whatever their approach. He 
loves her acceptance, he offers his own. He allows her to love him. 
And she is wonderfully adept at demonstrating her love. 

     She lies back against the pillows, her arms reaching above her
head...a seductive movement that rolls over him life powerful surf. 
He wants to plunge deep into this surf and yet...he wants to taste the
this swelling sense of musk, and life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ skin ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    feels the elecricity of love...even through glass screens and a 
voice transmitted by a river of fiery bolts. Her very words, over the 
phone, changes the very nature of time.

    She holds her breasts to him, offering him their rosey buds, which
whe knows he cannot resits.

~~ links of the rose...