at least i want permission

i squirm
and fester
with a need that tastes like licorice
seemingly smooth and delicious
yet with an after-bite for an acquired taste
 
with days of neglect
even oysters fulfill their lore
i am enticed by the whiff of suggestion
like feathers in the spin of wind
an aimless flow
my face a spade
awaiting a random dealt mate
confident, but in need of its partner
spinning from those thoughtless winds
 
hit me
give me the chance of your deck
let me risk my chips at the foot of your heel
as you squash my tomorrow
 
let me linger
and adore your statuesque limbs
are you not mona lisa?
holding cards to chest
stirring wonder with a hidden painted fingernail
are you not for the eyes to behold?
the anonymous many that enjoy you from a stranger's distance
have already taken you home with them
why not me?
i at least want permission
 
lust has no end
ive written this poem a thousand times
and still  
i dangle  
from 40,000 feet
by the delicate thread of your will