A Bothered Mind Looks In The Mirror Poem by mark king

I. In front of the mirror she sits painting the age off like an artist. She is a queen upon her throne here amongst the brushes, make-up, perfumes and the reflection of me in the corner of her life.
II. She catches me looking at her then moves enough, so that her skirt rides up her leg showing me the fancy lace at the top of her stocking. It is what I want and it is what she holds over me.
III. I rise up from the bed and stand behind her. My six feet seems to tower over her as she puts on the ruby red lipstick. I begin rubbing her almost bare shoulders easing the unseen tension away.
IV. My surprise comes quickly as I take a knee and pull her full breasts into me. She laughs that crazy laugh, because she knows I’m trapped. Our lips meet in a passionate embrace as the electricity touches our bare skin.
V. As we pull away I catch her bothered mind looking at our reflections in an act of self-gratification I can’t understand. She starts telling me another story of why she is going out without me, but I let it go past me and drink from the cup of her beauty instead, which fills me up in a temporary fix that only a junkie would know-