The Recipe

My forearms still ache from the way
I held them
In place,
Counterclockwise from alcohol


You said, I want you like this:
On the bed when I come in,
(I’ll be a few minutes,
to wash the dishes)

Down the hall_____
In the dark, where no one but
the nightlight could see
&as the short minutes passed I felt
A blooming excitement

then finally the pads of your feet,
the sigh (or was it, groan)
when you finally entered the mix

Sometimes, following the directions
are more enjoyable than you thought

One thought on “The Recipe

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