“Let’s be in love for just tonight,” you said,
When I had better things to do in red
High heels. Encircling your big bad bed
Like scouts around a campfire, ahead
A ring of muscles pressing us instead
Of sense, misplacing wits, shoes shed — — outspread:
My map, your body.
Folded up: my dread.
___
The featured image accompanying this poem, entitled ‘Let it Grow’, has been used with the permission of artist, Wednesday Morning.
Maya puts away our coffee-cups – I’ll rinse them after our walk, along with the produce for lunch – and stands behind me, massaging my neck at the right spot.
I thought of someone else while I kissed my boyfriend. “I did that once,” I said. “Oh no you didn’t.” said Heather. She’s the girl
___The featured image accompanying this piece, entitled ‘Spectrum’, has been used with the permission of artist, Robert Alan, a mixed media artist from New York
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