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Intellectual Stimulation
The way your words floated effortlessly from your lips and encircled my field of vision fascinated me. I could see that our conversation had the potential to be knowledgeable, existential, and well...deep.
Everything you said creeped down the fine hairs of my neck and tickled the drum of my ear. Soon I was hearing rimshots that were soft, yet defined and they reminded me that jazz is what happens when your pour your soul into music.
My words all have substance but I didn't want to use them to seduce you. I wanted you to extract clues from my body movement and the language my eyes and hands used to color my vocabulary. After 30 minutes of stimulating conversation temptation started to well up in the cellar of my libido.
"your man doesn't wanna support you?" "well you don't have to go as he goes. He should respect you enough to love you with your clothes on." The shift in my stance should've said what's going on in my mind but our kind tend to ignore the overt to make the other person work a little harder.
Inside I'm admiring that you're smarter than most and I love a woman whose complexion reminds me of bread with butter lightly toasted. Our conversation now has coasted on for 2 hours and neither of us have employed our powers of persuasion and soon the occasion will beg a connection.
I allude to a discussion about my chocolate complexion. So you perplex me with a reflection on your loss of emotional protection. Yeah, I've got walls up too! But these walls were created just to keep people out, not to keep me in and I'll let down the draw-bridge if you wanna be...ahem...friends Guess it's gotta start somewhere.
