Happy Throwback Thursday! I went digging through the archives and found a piece that I have visited in while. Send to kids off do some chores and grab a glass of wine for this one! 🙂 Enjoy
He uttered few words
Allowing his actions to be his voice.
I was a prisoner
Trapped in his strong embrace.
His eyes were focussed,
His every move deliberate
As he tilted my head up
And brushed his lips
Softly across my mouth.
He gently sucked and nibbled
My bottom lip
Between feathery kisses.
I tasted passion,
I felt his desire
He did not rush this encounter,
My heart raced with anticipation.
I wanted to feel his hands
And those oh, so tender lips,
Explore every inch of my body.
He kissed me like
A starving man,
Rationing his portions
So he could return for more
As he had need.
I leaned into him,
Not hiding my desire,
I devoured his kisses
Like they were my last meal.
And then he pulled away.
Holding me away from his body,
Examining me carefully,
He let me go
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I was running late again. Tardiness is never a good thing, but it’s even worse when the workplace is in an uproar. I work for Jessup & Jessup, a privately owned marketing and consulting firm in Greenville, Delaware. In addition to maintaining our normal office duties, the firm just underwent a major audit and we have just been bought by a larger firm. Details were being closely guarded by the bosses, putting the entire office on edge. Layoffs were sure to follow. The official announcement of the merger was being made to public today. This was not the time to stick out like a sore thumb.
I rushed across the parking lot and into the building. Members of the Board of Directors from both companies, and members of the media filled the small lobby. I elbowed my way through the crowd and made my way onto the elevator, clutching a stack of files close to my chest. We were packed in tight, like canned mackerel. I was wedged into a corner by a barrel-chested man in gray suit who kept leaning into me and smacking my knee with his brief case. The smells of coffee breath, remnants of acrid cigarette smoke, flowery perfume and musky cologne mixed in the tight confines of the car and made my stomach roil. This ride to the Executive Offices on the fourth floor would go down in history as the most agonizing moment of my career.
I was grateful when the doors opened and cool air from the hall rushed in and dispersed the stifling fragrance in the elevator. I was shoved out of the elevator doors by my fellow occupants and the barrel-chested guy stepped on my foot as he passed. I shot him a glare that could have bored a hole through steel and limped around the corner. I looked down to check the time on my cell phone. 8:07. I picked up my pace as I turned the next corner and ran into a brick wall of a man, almost falling backwards.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry,” I said, as I kneeled to gathered the folders I dropped.
“Keisha, is that you,” Brick Wall Man asked as he leaned over to help me. I looked up and met the hazel eyes of Stanley K. Billingsly. No good could come from this interaction.
“Stanley? What are you doing here?” He took me by my elbow and helped me rise from the ground.
“It’s been a while. How have you been? It’s really good to see a familiar face.”
“Um. Ok, but, what are you doing here,” I repeated. This could not be happening. I prayed he was a member of the media.
“I’m the new owner of Jessup & Jessup.”
My new boss is my ex fiancé, and he was happy to see me. I wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. I silently prayed that I was on the lay-off list.
“You’re the new owner?”
“Yes! Isn’t that great? Listen, clear your schedule from 12 to 2. We have a lot to go over with this new transition. We can do it over lunch, and maybe we can do a little catching up, too.” And with that, he turned and ushered the board members into the conference room. I walked to my desk, and sank into my chair. I thought this chapter was over, but Stanley is back. Crap!
Copyright 2013 Nike Binger Marshall
How can you say you are lonely
When I’m standing right here?
I try to have conversations with you all the time
But you just ignore me.
Sometimes say you’ll listen
But most times
It’s just lip service.
I’m not asking for much,
A little time,
A little attention,
But you treat me like a genie in a bottle.
You think, if you rub me the right way
From time to time
I’ll be satisfied
And give you whatever you ask for.
Sometimes I do it
Because I love you
And I want you to have the best.
Sometimes it’s a test
To see if you will say thank you
You usually don’t.
When you do
It’s just you being polite
Or glad that I got your butt out of trouble
One more time.
I should leave.
But I promised you that I wouldn’t.
You make me feel like a fool
Yet, every day
I still want to know you in the deeper way.
I want you to become more intimate with me.
I can’t believe
I’m a willing participant
In a one-sided relationship.
I chose you.
And I won’t give up on you.
I’ll wait for you,
As long as time permits
Because I am so in love with you.
I can’t wait until
You show me how
How much you love me too.
Nike Binger Marshall (c) 2012
I might let you chase me
if you knew the difference between diamonds and glass.
I might let you bask in my glow
if you understood that the green grass over there
is really just Astroturf.
If I was certain you understood the difference between dust and loam
I might allow you whisper my name.
But it seems you don’t fully comprehend
what you have in this woman.
If you knew, you would show me
how gold is refined,
and what it takes
transform slabs of marble
into perfect sculptures.
If you knew,
if only you knew,
I might slow my pace
so you catch a whiff of my essence.
And if by chance, you could explain
why trees grow in a way which defies the force of gravity,
I might let you hold my hand.
I might let you hold my heart,
and look into my eyes and tell me you love me.
If I thought you could handle the fullness of my spirit,
I’d let you wrap your arms around me.
But you can’t.
So you will never have me.
Nike Binger Marshall 2010 ©