The Watcher

The raven’s eye
In the feral night
Always there
Always
Watching...while he waits…
Poignantly beautiful,
Straddling the metal
Of a blunt, black Harley
Swathed in the heaviness
Of male musk, the heady
Scent of sex
In the dead of night
I move at the edge of a picnic table
And his fingers find their way
Inside
I forget to breathe
The world awash in silence
He is hard and bold
And when he slips inside
My pearly slick
I explode.
He
Is
The center of all
The zenith of beauty
He doesn’t know
I’ve come
Soft, sweet, absolute
Too soon…

I would surrender all

But I know the raven watches
And soon he will be gone
 
Never too close he comes
And never too far I stray