My girl stands to attention
But remains hidden from public view
Who is she?
Red lips!
She’s finally poised
Like a gazelle in the morning dew
Her face stays hidden
I watch her feet
As she glides in pirouettes, stretching
and searching
Up close, she’s a woman
With curves and eyes like precious
lockets
Her every way is scenic like fresh wind
on a cloudless day
She wore her femininity like a broach
Showing me all I was missing
All I ever needed
The curves of her breasts tormented me
As the wind tried to expose her all I
could think was
‘she was once mine’
When I touch her, she holds her breath
Hoping I’ll stop
She looks through me
Never at me
We made love in silence
With the November rain beating on the
window
I think she forgets that I know her body
Every road, every alley, every short cut
Making love with her was like playing
chess
I pre-empted her every move
I had her pinned down into submission
Her tights ripped like soft tissue
And all at once she was living in the
moment
Those soft hands on my chest
The murmur of her sweet moans
We went berserk
My mind flashed forth in abundance
As you slide
From one stage
From one bed
To another
My memory is blurred,
A collage of white
Of Rimbaud poems
Of empty shadows and nightmares
