Thursday November 30, 2017
Wild nights-Wild nights!
A steam of longing rises up,
possesses the space my thoughts
were busy occupying.
There, in the quick silence,
are your calve muscles, flexing.
The oven is loved on by you
and your desire to feed me
I could not say no to the offer
of home made lasagna at midnight
by a man in his perfect underwear,
leaning over the counter to grate
And I watched you close, desperately
trying to stay asleep in this dream
come true, dabbing at a lip every
now and again to collect the drool
forming. Did I mention it was midnight?
As if being made lasagna at any other time
of day would be any less wild.
Catching me in mid breath,
transported back to your
kichen with the bechamel stained
stove top, I am a mess of memory