Spilled Ink from the Vault

Vivid imagination grasps at the pictures 
conjured by your words; technicolor and
surround sound, a theatre in my mind. 
And deep within the core of my being, 
both mentally and physically, the flickering
lights are focused to a point as a glass lens
concentrates sunlight onto kindling
and my fibres begin to smoke with desire,
and you breathe gently across my skin,
encouraging the flame. My body responds,
a flood gate opens and where once there was 
but a trickle, a reminder of whose I was, 
there is now a deluge that demands to be felt,
and I sense you know exactly the game you play;
purposefully causing this candied cascade
that contributes alluvial deposits of my own self 
at your feet, expanding your dominion.