Afternoon Sex
The unexpected connection
unloading groceries, the purple eggplant
molded perfectly to your hand. I bend
to close the dishwasher and turn
into you. A mimic dance, a moment where
we roam, dip into cups and pockets before
the call goes out: all hands report! Move
to the bedroom, quickly shuck shirts
and jeans and socks and tangled bra
all helter-skelter, dive under covers.
The mail slot bangs. The neighbors
with the yapping dogs chat just beyond
our window. We keep quiet, cram
our greedy mouths full of the other’s tongue,
grip the handholds God so knowingly provided
and hang on. We riot in silence.
Then quick as a rain shower it passes, trailing
a sparkling curtain and the scent of wet pavement.
We collapse, spent, sleeping the incautious sleep
of an unexpected victory.
Posted 02/04/12