you? you're gorgeous

no, do me better, poet. come on, don't be shy

she stood up from the bed and sat on a monoblock chair. she's as bare as a newborn

you're naked.

yes. yes i am.

she sips her cold coffee. or at least i hope it was cold; i refuse to believe we finished that quickly

tell me more.

her voice sounds...

why do you sound like an english teacher? i swear all of my old teachers sound like that

please. if i tie my hair and wear my glasses and act like a librarian would it make you go for round two?

she fixes her hair.

no, you act like a... well...

what is it?

let's just say... mary magdalene

she laughs.

mary wasn't a *****. she was wealthy

i didn't mean to call you that

no, no, it's fine. i DID wear the sluttiest of my underwear

jeez, lady.

come on. describe me

be as weird as you can

okay? uhhhhh

didn't i call your ***** pieces of bread

yes, you did. very offensive by the way. you could have called them loaves

uhhh...

i ponder. i can be as shakespearean as i could

well... your uhhh, your hair is like... uhhh... wet silk on an alabaster statue...

she laughs again.

come on, i've read your poems. your crudeness is unique

really now. i haven't heard that one before

i stood up. there are ants on our plates. i lean on the bed post of the double decker

no, there's nothing special about your hair. it looks like ****

says you, she said. your hair is messy

and so are yours, lady. it looks like squid ink noodles on a mannequin

how about my eyes

it's brown. nicely brown, actually. like polished mahogany

and my neck?

chiseled, and thin. those ridges are like marble

my chest?

wide, but thin. and those loaves of yours were tasty

she smiled. a promiscuous smile

it's the roof of a japanese castle, freckled with autumn leaves

my belly?

smooth. a calm river under moonlight

her eyes joined her licentious smile.

my.... hips?

just the right amount. i wouldn't call it child-bearing, though

i come close. she stands up and approaches

my arms?

she drapes over my shoulders

the right amount, too. like some smooth waxen candlesticks

she presses closer. she smells cold

my... legs?

too short. it couldn't even hoist you up to kissing level

she goes for one. my lips arrive to hers.

i told you i would only do one kiss.

that makes you a liar, then. or a failure.

i am fine with failing once.

i grab her head and press her tight to mine.

it starts to rain again.

.

.

.

when are you going to leave

when it stops raining

i have an umbrella you can borrow

no, it's fine. i don't like it when it's cold

liar. you weren't trembling earlier

you were, though.

yeah

i was

.

.

.