In my marigold sheath and satin underpinnings

I sit, I wait, you shift.

We flirt, with nervous eyes, expressive mouths, clumsy tongues,

Our milky cheeks flushed, like the inside of a bruised plum.

Your lips, still sweet with Bellini.

Wet strands, runny noses, your starched jacket

Now redolent with top note notes of marshmallow and

Easter lily.

We blend.

In our gleamy, musk drunk body glow

With darting breath and glossy limbs

We protect a fleeting lust, illiterate to a certain wane, we grip tight Continue reading