A Sonnet: Tell Me Your Desires. Poem by Benjamin Hickmott

Every time I walk the dog you‘re with me
At night I lie in bed and you are there
I‘m torn from blissful turns of fantasy
When I reach out to stroke your auburn hair.
Memories of flavours where my lips stroke
I can hear you ‚ see you ‚ smell you if I try
Just illusions, no more substance than smoke
Dreams lack lustre, are cool and usually dry.
When shall we meet? You‘re always so busy
I patiently wait, hoping for the time
When your sweet scent again drives me dizzy
Warm wet happy hours ‚ soaked in sweat and slime.
Tell me your desires‚ to learn I must know
Let me be the slave to your libido.