almost like a
waltz.
Think weathered
coral stones etched
with spider cracks.
Think skin light
doesn't get to.
There is something
about this pale
tango. Bare skin
in back bend, ready
to receive. An early
morning tango.
No sweat, just the
light wild plum smell.
If the step goes
wrong, it goes wrong.
Bodies brushing
against each other,
palely seductive.
Of course you can't
do this on your
own
