

Dear Diary, I spent the afternoon playing BB King records.
GUITAR LADY
Fingers strummed across Lucille
he gasped through teeth from her appeal
his body erupted full elation
hers, lost in salacious vibration
he sang his praise with her submission
strumming the fire of his obsession
no strings my King, a bluesy plea
trust from her on bended knee
always obeying weeping a moan
he'd slide down her neck to bend her tone
her loyalty was his request
Lucille wept upon his death
her heart thoroughly broken in two
she suffered alone, the three o'clock blues
she missed his touch, his lips to taste and cried, living alone in her case
if once a wish upon her granted,
tucked under his arms firmly planted
on his lap she would whisper her plea
just one more night to set her free.
