in the dark beneath a red fog
bikinis slink in calculation
catching our eye
joining the game
long sheets of oaken hair
come at me
fin up, mouth up
on their knees and smiling
to the deep corner
she explains her body
like an airplane buckle,
pointing in veriform
to the outside of the waist,
hips, side,
and be careful not to touch
the bust or stomach
or the bikini
she disappears into her job
leans in close,
asks me where i live
in a warm exhalation of mint gum
then some silly, spastic hip seizures
hair swinging over my head
legs barely touching
close in the blue
No comments:
Post a Comment