My Mistress

My Mistress

I think of her with passion

each and every morning

I can not start the day without

my mistress.

I linger over her sensual scent

the drops of her essence on

my lips arouse me to life.

I think of her during the day

as I muse and fantasize

about her darkness
a sin
yet key to my revival,

the spell she casts,

my hands shake

when she is gone.

I meet her in evening cafes,

quiet restaurants,

secret places,

romantic boulevards,

morning walks,

and pillow talks late at night,

never and hour passes that 

she is not far from my thoughts,

my needs.

My guilty pleasures,

I confess,

my life without coffee would

be empty, bleak,

without stimulus,

My mistress,
often hot,
sometimes cold.