where my foot on the seat bared my ankle
like a neon exit sign and still you didn’t reach
for it. or me. where popcorn kernels slid
saltsweet, buttermelt, oiled and irresistable,
into the hills of my breasts. and still you didn’t.
where the screen showed soft blue on the
ache of my cheekbones where the couple
behind us whispered skin to slick skin
action scenes every one. after the theater
where i dreamed the wrong story and forgot
to bring glasses for the translation. and still you.
where i sat through the unreadable credits
the pelvic music the way the lights came
up harsh and blinding. and still.
after the theater where you didn’t,
i did. oh, beautiful thing.
Image: Taken with iPhone.
Words written at home. in leather chair.
Time Taken 5 minutes writing.
Brain on … um. Yes. Sex.