Just My Personal Opinion, Of Course...

She stood, unable to move... The feather taunted; Her body taut... He did nothing else, watching... ~~~

  B-17 PREFLIGHT By Adolfo... I There is no dreaming In the world of Sigmund Freud, Only dreams interpreted By pseudos And other psychiatrists Devoted to fulfill The gullibility of those Finding answers in dreams As though Life were a dream And vice-versa, The truth being That without dreaming, There'd be no dreams And, Only death instead of life With no continuity From the conscious to the unconscious Of our existence, Dreaming being only A chemistry without biology! II In the third phase of preparing  The B-Seventeen for another flight, This young couple stood by-- Hardly looking at the aged bomber Being prepared for a spcial flight (A payload of human cargo)-- As they embraced and kissed, In a world of their own Free of war machines Or battles with killing fields, Enraptured in their kisses In a harmonious correspondence, Broken by yours truly: "Wearing a Harvard shirt?" "Yes!" he said, surprised ...

Veils binding, blue, silver shining Then unwinding, she drops it, head begins moving Arms flowing, up and down, then intertwining Wrists twisting, finger cymbals set the beat Slowly sensuously, her silver breast shimmies Hips find a contrasting movement Jutting her hip first left and then right Bending her knee, she gathers her veil Circling she bumps her hip, each separately Stimulating, she circles, enticingly           Catching the faster beat,                     She shimmies and twirls                               Lost in the wonder, loving the dance                                         Veil flying free, as freely as she.. . ~~...

Music calls to me. .. I begin to sway                                   Instead, she calls from within I Climb into my secret cave Where music can't be heard. ..                                    Too Afraid to Dance Unless...     Unless... Unless...just for you...? http://www.jewishjournal.com/images /photos/aila_bellydancer_061507.jpg

His compelling eyes stare at me He seems to read into my thoughts Suddenly his hands encompass The pearl-white breasts that lounge unfettered... and waiting...  I love to have him touch me there His hands moving, surrounding, His fingers playing, strumming, His tongue, encircling His lips sucking  His eyes search mine As he starts moving downward Then registers surprise and delight When I, too, relocate So that our eyes now focus...    He sees my blond bush and starts to wander around I explore and tease, already... enjoying the coming thrusts of his desire for my lips...   ~~~