This is an intimate poem written for my lion. My first and last muse….❤️ He struggles with his pride. I’m loving him through it…

The dancer and the lead

Tracing her cinnamon with butter lips he speaks

“Dance with me”

she follows him and let’s him take the lead

Unaware of where her skin ends and his begins

Dancing as a single man with woman as his kin

Softly pushing to the limits she can tell he’s more

Bending backwards

Chocolate roses gently swept the floor 

Picked her up with desperation fearless though was he

She saw all the things he let her 

Wanted her to see

Leaning on him side by side they sway in misery

She goes left and he goes right 

Giving in to e

Go his pride she goes home quiet 

Emotions are at bay

Waiting on a call to come knowing he will not stay

He is torn his back is tired 

Dancing with his prey

Satisfaction 

Disconnection 

Baby, who were they? 

Insatiable he seems to know she’s

Hard to please yet still a rose 

And every finger touches gold

But smiles fall in waveless flows

The dancer she won’t dance again

The lead has gone to a place within 

She looks for him in the lions den

Finds him sleeping, 

She begins

To dance and wake the lions pride 

He has to watch her tears collide 

With the pride he raised and trained and kept

Pride won’t back down

She’s placing bets

Her feet still spinning her ankles numb

To get to her he must un-become

His pride stands tall and faces the lead 

They bow to him as he finds his feet

The dancer stops and turns to him 

Come to me my love…let’s dance again.

By:Tahlia Banks