I couch myself, crouched arse out, towards you,
Smooth and perfumed, polished clean.
Your eyes should travel down my back, flared like a cello at the hip.
Down the length, white and shining of my legs
To the shiny red heels.
See the contrast, white and soft, warm dimpled
And the shiny, brittle, violent, vinyl shine.
Ohh, that you would be the hard to my soft
Tense to my dimpled
Taut to my submissive.
Yet you throw yourself down on the down.
Your meaty arm flung slack across the pillow
And your breath lengthens
I draw my face towards the wall