Your curves

Your sensual lust

Thrust of a tongue

Oh, dear,

Beef, no more

I went to the drugstore

Picked up dinner on the way

Stopped at Exxon

And forgot the children at school

Sorry, I forgot

You were Kosher

And I, just blind

Your father is missing his index tip

Lost it at the machine shop years ago

Autumn leaves make our bed spread

Shaking hands of wet tears

In and out

Film outings

And burning sensations

Clean, crisp salad, packaged tightly

Every night I wake for coffee

Past the toast

And we’ll be friends

Past the beef

And I’ll be wed

© 2001 David Greg Harth

01.02.08.14:14:10 @ 1515 NYC