Something Unheard

her - posing

I nod,
mesmerised
by the intense
look of
concentration
in your eyes
as you slide your
brush through
your palette of paint.
You gesture
with one hand,
urging me to
sit on the sofa.
I feel like I don't belong,
amidst your
half-dry masterpieces,
but I'd rather stay
than have my clothes torn off
me by a drunk,
horny jerk of a lead singer.
You stop for a second
and bite your
bottom lip, eyes roving
every inch of me.
Do you just want me to
wait and watch?
You haven't said much.
I cross my legs
under me
and swallow a gasp as my
red hair takes
shape on the canvas,
followed by my
pale neck,
and soon I fear
my shirtless chest.
I feel hot all over
and my throat is dry.
Brandy sure would be nice.