The D Spot

I don’t quite know who you are, you know…
yes you, the one I am always speaking to.
Don’t try to rationalize it away, okay?
I’ve been talking to you for as long as I remember
and I’ve yet to see your face.
I think you played with me as a baby
Ran with me as a child
Tempted me as a teenager, and now
Now you show up in my mind
my dreams
the words I write.
All grown up now, we are.
our games are grown up too
And still the conversation goes on.
Conversation, I guess that’s the polite word for it.
You change yourself a bit, of course.
Lately you’ve been tan and slightly muscled.
(Not that I’m complaining)
And you’ve been quite….
accomodating….
active…..
playful…
Every night lately when I sleep.
I swear sometimes I wake up with sore muscles
after a night of dreams with you.
(pleasantly sore, of course).
But you won’t show me your face
won’t give me your voice
and you wear different faces and different names
for different dreams or…
ahem…
conversations.
I think I”ve always been half in love with you,
whoever you are.
You are like
another part of me, waiting
just in the wings.
Was it you who took me flying?
I treasure our times together of course,
as frustrating as it can be sometimes.
But I wish I had you in real life
physically
and not just in dreams.
I have looked for you in every face
Felt for you in every set of arms that has held me
Sometimes I think I see you
behind these or those eyes
but
I wish I could see your face, and find out
who exactly you are.