The Rock

Tonight in my imagination
I see a man
That's not to gentle
And not to rough

On my skin
I feel hands
That bare calluses
From moving mountains

On my mouth
I taste work
And a never resting soul
That I massage in comfort

Around my waist
Muscles flex
And I smooth them
Gently like a knife does butter

I close my eyes
And let him drain
His dread, his pain
And wounded pride

Like a rose opening for a bee
I Am A Woman