So My Girl

So she stood there in the tight dark her dark
low jeans dropping those fawn eyes down
lower skimming me over the valleys of her
blooming lips the petunia pink the poppies
climbing up from ribs to collarbone to tug
at the tips of her stem-like hair
then jump face first into her tomboy
belly sliding in and then down again
those jeans I followed like a worn path
hijacked and turned to masked thievery
rolling in the stolen landscape licking at
the dirt yes the dirt a fine white talc
breathing her sweet raw milk
while she stood there struggling
with the words to tell me how
she needed more something more intense
that felt more real never knowing
the real me

Copyright 2000  Ryan Able


Back                                                              Table of Contents                                                         Next