With your mocha lips, can this writer have a taste?
Oh, the succulence, girl, I’m leaving my truculence behind,
Something soft and tender shall tame my inner beast
Bite your finger in the dark and take a nibble of mine

A figment of your imagines am I on this Friday night
What are you doing outside the confines of my home?
Oh, supposedly you’ve a girls-night all planned out
Damn, if only your hormones-seeking-Roy didn’t roam

Back to front, inside and out, head to each tingled toe
Monday is when I first knocked on your mental door,
Tuesday I cracked it open, Wednesday I walked in
Thursday I lit the fireplace to warm your inner core

Then comes Pamper-Her-Friday, woman, I’m on you . . .
I’m in you . . . of you . . . , dammit, girl, I’m all over you,
Are we predetermined or more like predestined?
Admit it, girl, you’re thinking of me right now, is it true . . .

. . . that no other man’s touch measures anywhere near
That of the writer of this poem, why are we apart?
Careful as you pour that glass of sangria with your girls
As you bite your finger in the dark, restless is your heart

Go ahead and have giggles, sip and paint with your crew
By all means, don’t allow thoughts of Rg2 take you away,
Black-girl bonding magic works best with group appeal
Ahhh, but the afterparty is reserved for mistress-of-the-dark play

Candles, fragrance, melted chocolate, berries fresh and chilled
Tri-level thick blankets spread over the den floor,
Extended hours for sip & paint, girl, paint across my chest
Rest the cheeks atop the pecs, prepare for what’s in store . . .

The inventor of Pamper-Her-Friday at your fingertips
Tonight, but put a li’l rush before my patience wears thin,
Stop biting your finger in the dark . . . and come taste
Woman, Pamper-Her-Friday is about to begin . . . .

Come.

Rg2

______

***
Pamper the woman . . . especially on Friday after dark. -Rg2

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®