Wednesday, February 18, 2015

time off

She gyrates astride the stage
arms like feathers tossed in the wind
as the harsh lights gleam
off the fine sheen-
perspiration on her tired body.
Muscles quiver taut
with expectation of excitement
and reward when it is soothed.
She greets me with a dove-coo,
all rhinestone eyes
and half-tossed hair,
grazes the side of my face
with her breasts bared
and the smell of floral nectar.
I crane my head in anticipation
smelling her sweet curve of neck
where it meets the ear-
she giggles girlish-
the motion swaying
her breasts as I leer.
She squats like an indian before me
an awkward alien in
high-heeled boots and naked flesh.
I step aside and halfway wave
pondering myself, embarrassed.
But even then,
even then my brain
tricks my nose into sniffing
the sweet scent of her skin
and I hangdog to the table
to sit among my sin.

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