When I Make Love Again

When I Make Love Again

Lately, I've led a life of loneliness.
Not the kind of loneliness that comes
with a lack of friends or family 
but the kind that comes in the inky night,
when there is no one next to me 
that I can press against, feeling his warmth,
and be reassured.
Instead my bed seems perpetually empty.
There is no chest to bury my head in, 
no arm to be draped across my torso,
no warm beating heart
to listen to when it is the blackest hour of night
and there are no other sounds 
to comfort me.

I am always left longing, left wanting.
Wanting stroking and cuddling,
kissing and caressing,
cavorting and creating
love, laughter, limp limbs.

I long to lengthen and locate 
all the places that make you scream.
I want cry out so loud
I drown out the sirens and car horns, 
the engines and the sounds of life carrying on
outside these four walls. 
I want to make my neighbors bang on the walls,
call the super, make a noise complaint.

I want our limbs to merge, limber and loose, 
bending and blending
in ways we never could think 
to imagine.
I want to pant and sweat, 
out of breath, 
moaning in exultation of our coming
together.

Won't you please show up? 
Knock on my door! 
Grab me in a bear hug, lift
me into your arms, carry
me to the bedroom where
we will bathe in the swirls of 
incense smoke and be 
illuminated by the incandescence 
of candlelight.

I will dress up in my finest lingerie --
black silk nightie,
halter-top that ties,
flaring at the hips to show off
the way my ass looks in lacy boy-cut panties,
and how my legs curve in strappy 3-inch heels and 
thigh-highs topped w/ lace, garters and all.
I won't wear these things long but
long enough and 

when they come off, 
you will tease me, softly 
touching every inch of my beckoning skin, 
my welcoming erogenous zones calling to you.
My nipples so hard, my ass so tight, my legs so limber.
I'm wet. I'm coming before you even get near my sweet spot, you're that good and I've been so good,
I've waited so long.
I've waited too long.

I cannot settle for just any old lay though.
It has to be worth my while. It has to be
intimate, intoxicating, alleviating, and deviating
from the norm.
No in-out, in-out, missionary-style wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am for me.
No, I will wait to be intrigued, believed, redeemed.
So, for now, I will just have to shudder and moan
when my hands roam down south, or
I brandish my tools of eroticism, doing to myself 
what so many have failed to do. 

Next time I find you,
you will not fail me.
You will bring me to the brink and then
you will take me over the edge, into a moment
of timelessness, sightlessness, when I'm only aware
of sensational sensation and penetrating pleasure.

So, while lately I've led a life of loneliness,
a life where my nights leave me longing and wanting,
I will continue to wait
and wait
until I know you're the one
who will not only make me come
but be gentle and rough, 
tough and sweet,
a man I'd love to meet, 
a man I need, a man to make me
go into heat.
Someone who cares for my mind and soul
as much as my body, my skin, my scent, my smile, my thighs, my heaving chest;
someone who can love as well as fuck. 

I long and I want and I lead a life of loneliness
but I know how to take care of myself
and I will wait
and wait 
until I my life intersects with
a man worthy of my time.


Copyright 2006 Katherine Andrews