Too Worked Up

each night i see her there. the window shows her

there. but she said it's all-right if i watch her every

night as she lays down and goes to work while

i hope for a glimpse of what she will not let me

have between her thighs. puts on a show for me;

a movie just for me. she says "look but don't touch"

but she's asking too much. if she'd just let me walk

across the street i'd finally get more than a peek at

what's there in between her thighs. she's moving

faster now; i'm moving faster now. thoughts about

my face inside her thighs' embrace are dancing in

my brain. i get worked up, i get too worked up

wanting, needing what's there between her thighs.