Once
nothing between us but moonglow and heartbeats
filtering thru the darkened kitchen
washing the linoleum with beams of stillness and shadow;
swimming, spinning i lost my footing on reality.
suspended in time he held me tighter than arms
and the thin cotton stretched taut across my chest
where desire and need with their ebb and flow
volcanic in intensity, seeped thru my rising nipples...
Flaming flamingos flaunting!
Pulling my finger from the dyke for just a brief second
just a tiny release of pent up aching...
offering him only my left breast, that sat upon my heart and sang.
He ran in fear,
climbing under the sheets, hiding in the covers of his wife's snores.
the next morning he awoke and called the fire department
saying his house was on fire
and pointing an accusing finger of blame at me...
I was the keeper of the torching flame...
this was insane,
and I hung my head in shame.
He wishes now he had touched me;
that small, soft breast, just a tiny handful of the forbidden.
Still he has unanswered needs, and hidden fears
and a new wife to hide behind if he should need to run and confess.
He thinks if i or another child in a woman's body
don't give him that long ago offering
he'll die imagining...innocense wrapped in a halo of sin;
an old man wondering about the thrill of forbidden secret love,
that only adolescents fully understand...
an old man wondering why the young man ran
from the touch of a small pink mound of love
in a kitchen washed in moonglow long ago.
but if i did as he ask...
he just might have an overwhelming need to call the police in the morning
and say i was a thief in the night
who stole his innocense.