Make me believe

Pretty words


Dangerous beautiful lady in her tight black dress and wearing chain of amethyst crystal upon her neck. Was my crystal once and she wanted it more than I did. She told me yesterday. Pretty Poet. I will make you want me and I will make you dream of me. Tonight at the Monterey poetry reading she read her words.
Make me believe
Tell me you love me. Show me you love me and make me believe you are real. Allow me to do the midnight dance releasing our fear with each piece of my clothing. My tight black dress I shall slowly release, hoping your eyes and mind are worshiping skin and perfect curves. I will come to you. Face to face. My hazel eyes will be blessed seeing my face in your wanting blue eyes.


I will rise-up and do the shadow dance with the dancing flames in the many candles. I will release bra and panties of silk making you see me in real form. Hiding nothing and showing you. I want no secrets between us and I want us nude and free till noon. Interlocking fingers, our body twisted tightly together and holding deep and needed embrace.


Please make me believe dear poet. Make me know, you and I. Are not myth and tale. Our pretty words and holding hands were just stepping-stones to perfect dance and embrace. I love you, I love you. Please love me.
I watched her. Perfect California free spirit and I. Twisted-up and cold-hearten. I loved her for a long time. She loved my stories and I love her sweet and gentle voice. She told me often. Quit the Army and find your proper place. Army will teach you death and pain. Her long free-flowing auburn hair and the black dress. She made me wish.


Wish to know songs of peace and to fall into her arms forever. She came to me and she smiled. She asked. Did you like the poem? It was for you dear Poet. I reached over and I kissed her. I asked her. Do you believe love can be true? Can broken men be repaired?


Her beautiful eyes looked into my eyes and she whispered. Words can be sweet and sometimes we must trick the gods. Show them we can love and love some more. Make them learn. Love is a blessing.


I kissed her many times and I whispered to her. I love you, I love you. I have loved you since the day you took my hands and you told me. Dear soldiers. I’m here for you. Please don’t be sad and we walked the Monterey beach. You make me believe. There is beauty and sweetness in this crazy world.


John Castellenas/John Coyote