Posted in Of Writingly

Sapiosexual

Press play
Lie back
Be patient to your mind chemistry.

Savour every word
Savoir Faire
From Shakespeare to his Richard the Third.

Some say intelligence is sexy
You make it an art.

Your intonations
Warm and Soothing.
Your bright blue orbs
Mischievous and Sparkling.

I’m a sapien, after all.
One of you, one with you.

Forgive my need
To see you feeling
Among your worded fixities.

Your brain
Cast an unrelenting spell on me.
Its vehicle
Cannot compare to its energy.

Why don’t you descend
From your high romance
And be of the earth like me?

Perhaps, that spells both our demise.

Our tensions
Our constrictions
My enslavement
To your high idealism.

Is what makes this universe run.

Author:

Writer, Blogger, Kate Bush Fanatic

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