The Fetishist
You unbuttoned your shirt,
and in that one small act,
you unbuttoned my mind.
The things we reveal or take off,
show love more than skin.
Sex is a fetish war --
a battle of trinkets of desire,
leather, silk, cotton and sweat.
Belts whisper as they come
undone; zippers slide knees
into kneeling.
Each gesture a prayer or
purpose. The one who disrobes
and the one who covers up,
both in the same church of
'Come here.'
and in that one small act,
you unbuttoned my mind.
The things we reveal or take off,
show love more than skin.
Sex is a fetish war --
a battle of trinkets of desire,
leather, silk, cotton and sweat.
Belts whisper as they come
undone; zippers slide knees
into kneeling.
Each gesture a prayer or
purpose. The one who disrobes
and the one who covers up,
both in the same church of
'Come here.'
|
7
favs |
1077 views
9 comments |
73 words
All rights reserved. |
Author's Note
The author has not attached a note to this story.
Other stories by Philip F. Clark
Tags
This story has no tags.
Comments
You must
log in
to post comments.
Subtly vivid.
"Each gesture a prayer or
purpose."
Subtle images.
Oh, lovely work. ***
Excellent.
I like this very much.
you unbuttoned my mind.
That's it! * Really good.
*, Philip. A well-written tribute to the special sequence.
"The things we reveal or take off
show love"
Nice insight!
Strong impact.