a flashing view in the washroom mirror

who the hell is that

a plain jane in a neat grey suit

no edges

no lustre

no – LUST

oh my god  it’s me

 

Lips flame rouged

Shaded lids in saucy shadows

To her breast a crimson rose

And dancing heels with red silk lining

Swaying lithely to silent melody

Tingling with desire to dance

Twirling swirling scarlet skirt

Flaring high to black lace thigh

Laughing laughing

Mist of perfume dark and spicy

Metamorphosis complete

A deep breath

Girls’ Night Out!

 

and the club was Caribbean

with a fine steel band

and a very fine man

two bodies making one body

in fluid extension of the drums

ringing singing steel

irresistible rhythm of the steel

flowing into blood and bone

the music was all soft warm lips

soft warm lips … soft .. warm .. lips … soft …

she began to drown -

but one last kiss and he left

uncertain

electricity unrequited

 

that night she wrote a letter

sent her force

the smell of her skin on paper

 

"When a woman moulds her body to a man’s

Responsive to his merest touch,

Another limb grafted to his maleness …

You fool! Don’t you know?

She is yours!

She is ready to make love

To mould herself totally

To your maleness.

 

When a woman yields her mouth

Deep to your tongue

And savours its secret honey with her own …

You fool! Don’t you know?

She is yours!

She is ready to make love,

To yield herself deep

To your  maleness.

 

She is all surrender …

drunk on warm soft lips

and dancing shoes "