PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

All it took was one slow look from him

As he strode gracefully across the crowded dance floor.

He shot that well - rehearsed boyish wink

In her direction as he traced his index finger

Into smoke - filled air in a manner

That whispered seductively " This world is my oyster

And you are merely the ripe pearl for

Me to wrench from your secret unsuspecting armor."



He arranged himself with coolness,

Stretching confident, long & lazy from stool to bar,

He played the game of love just for her.

And when she would shyly dare a fleeting look his way,

Would ignore her with perfect timing,

To bewilder her with his very clever signals -

Perfect rhythm, such precise moves.

Every little thing arranged so oyster perfect.



Oyster -pearl ears turned to hear "I am

Ready now to conquer you. Your warm moist perfect flesh

Will slide so easily down my throat,

As I devour you greedily from the inside out.

And when this hungry night is over,

Desires spent- abandon you, an empty oyster shell.

On this cold crowded dirty dance floor,

Then leave to pursue the oyster game another day."



And she knew that she was the oyster.

Yet, even then she recklessly refused to turn away.

She knew the game and pursued it back

To the confident face filled with the intensity

Of the room, the smoke & the desire,

As he stretched long & lazy from his stool to the bar.

She knew & answered to the commands

Of the finger that traced circles in the dirty smoke.