Published on: 1/15/2014
Gentleman

Sending me to my door, our clothes vapored
in gin and tequila, then polite offers to sneak
beyond my flatmates for hard-earned privacy,
how delicate our attempts at bartering means
to an end, words hovering between our faces
in foreplay. When you peel away the layers
which outline my timid hesitations, cardigan
over sock, ankle over pelvis, I am all ribbon
and cardboard, unravelling with the ferocity
of a lover's tongue. What can anyone desire
from this? Before light overcomes the room
like an accident, your shoes will be claimed,
coat clumsily buttoned without my help, my
limbs fallen apart in slumber. If I am lucky,
a pool of warmth eddying where your torso
once rests. If not, only creases to remember
the chase when conquering has long proven
inadequate. We know this. Use me however.