Been ages. Schools in session again and the world keeps on spinning...
I have missed you blogosphere
and blow kisses at my followers...
went to the gym today and again
fell in love with the woman who works the front desk.
You know ladies, the kind of woman who can make a t-shirt look glamorous. I wish I had a picture
so you could share my enthusiasm...alas, words will have to do...
to be her for an hour!
The crossdresser has a crush. For L who works at the gym.
45, 46, eyeliner crushed blue and ribbon silver
face cut by age, sharp as a A-line skirt
and as glowing as Venus' curves. She greets
and knows not
of my trimmed legs
my lust to be in a body like hers:
tall, curvy, thick, hips that could crush mountains,
breasts to nurse the worst of us,
heart to love the best.
I work out,
and catch glances
of her, as if machines and cardio could imprint
her shape onto my lean coffin frame.
What she would think of me I dare not seek
for I know she is good and straight as she watches her desk,
and would feel queer
at my feminine wiles.