There is a sudden change in the atmosphere as you
easily gait into my garden, one foot placed gracefully in front of another. You
step on the grass carpet, dressed magnificently in my favourite colour, black.
The thick, rich and glossy locks of your hair are clasped over your head like a
royal crown. Your beautiful and long black skirt cascades down to your ankles,
completely concealing them and falling over your insteps. It
shimmers in glossy ebony waves as you saunter along like a proud lioness. The
loose, free-flowing skirt inevitably takes the form of that voluminous,
magnetic body. It waffles like a Japanese kimono in response to the light
breeze. The voluptuous bulge of your curves as they sway with every step you
take makes my eyeballs pop out. You have the walk of a model in a… What do they
call it? Yes, catwalk. Everything about you oozes respectable sensuality.
Sunlight kisses your unblemished face and you smile. The contagious smile
spills off your face and radiates into the already nectarous air. I feel your
smile as it melts the marrow in my bones. I reel with excitement. Here comes Queen Majesty...
In My Room/Office/Studio
"A writer and nothing else: a man alone in a room with the English language, trying to get human feelings right." - John K. Hutchen.
