I want everything.
I want a man who can make the sun melt
into an effervescent puddle of ultraviolet passion.

A man whose words sound like sonic waves
of eloquent, hypnotic, symphonic chantings.

Whose presence echoes in shadows which surround me;
he never completely allows me to come down.

I want a man whose eyes mimic solar flares;
able to burn through the outer layers to reach my soul.

His shoulders slouch,
mirror his motivation;
his mouth spits,
"Is that all?"

--No. I want everything

A man who can give me diamond-studded rings
of euphoric emotion laced with romance.

I want to feel the heat of fusion
when our lips collide in moments of unparalleled lust.

I want a knight whose armor has been scuffed
with a coarse thirst for reckless abandon.

I want to watch my birth and death from inside his dreams;
fully loaded with surround sound and technicolor hours.

I want divinity or longevity of youth in no particular order,
and for no apparent reason I want a man with calloused hands.

His manicured fingers poke at ice cubes
rumbling and twirling in a tumbler
as he asks,
"Divinity? --calloused?"

--Yes.

"Is that it?"

Not even close--I want everything

Wisdom will exude from the edges of his rebellious hair,
and form a halo of superior thoughts --just above my head.

I want a man whose blood is cold and curdled
inside the warmth of dark, murky channels in his soul.

A man who writes in hieroglyphics, and loves in characters
more decadent than even my most vibrant facades.

I want a man with the soul of a saint, and the heart of a lion;
who can tame with savage claws, then hold me in divine comfort.

A man who is not content with simplistic goals;
adversity fans blue flames which burn inside him.

I want Romeo in leather, and I want him to ride a Harley
into electric desert sunset to become closer to the Earth.

His eyes fade into cold oblivion;
his lips decay as he speaks,
"Halo? --leather?"

My tongue slithers;
--Everything

I want an angel draped in white, who will stand naked before me;
a smoke-winged demon who will allow me to cleanse his soul.

A philosopher who will climb mountains to find pure truth in Tibet;
a dreamer who finds spirituality in distant celestial dust storms.

I want a man who will dance with me in the Valley of The Kings;
make love to me on the banks of the Nile; the land of Tutankhamen.

I want a child who can stare at cumulus creations and see Rembrant;
a man who shows no discomposure, but radiates in becoming that child.

A king or a peasant-- I want a man whose aura glows with dignity and honor;
deeply valued morals spawn strength and courage in his endeavors.

I want a man with a back strong enough to support my weight as he lifts me;
exalting each other, we become god and goddess in our own realm.

A being composed of eclectic fibers; I want a man who can hold my gaze
long enough for my body, mind, and soul to fully converge with his

He asks no further questions,
but begins to walk away.

A waitress hands him a bill
then turns to me and asks,
"Is that everything?"

I pluck the scribbled tally from his hand;
as I watch him walk away, I answer

---Obviously not