Comments about Michael Benfield
A Carousel Horse
I am a carousel horse
an emerald in each eye.
Two deep breaths and I open the door,
one drink, his hand on my thigh.
I am pushed down to the sheets;
the man's tongue laced with cognac and lust
burns my skin.
I smile as he tells me he loves me,
and the carousel begins.
Sweat drips down his chest,
I cringe and kiss his neck
as we dance.
passion builds and the ride is complete.
He dismounts, kisses my cheek,
and hands me my fare.