His Cold Fish  (for J-Z who won't answer the question of whether he's been desired by women)

I wonder if you’ve ever known  
a woman seething with desire for you;
a woman who, when seeing your approach  
to her  
has found you irresistible and rapturous  
and then became one sparked to sing  
a heated siren’s call for you to come  
into her arms
to know her lips  
to joy her on her bed  
in great and (to her senses) justified  
anticipation of  your making good
a promised, indisputable intent  
to give to her and all her eager flesh
again and then again
a sumptuous pleasuring.  
 
Or is it true  
that if one ever let herself become  
the object of your touch  
the arrowed target of a sexual embrace,  
she looked upon them as  
a something she was duty-bound to do,  
and to endure,  
while holding back from showing then  
how much her mind and body found within  
your face, your hands, your kiss,  
a desolating winter’s withering?