Her beauty leaves the gods to weep and beat
their chests from unfulfilled desire.  Her legs,
slender, strong, with graceful dancing feet.
Full of life, she understands the dregs,
the darker being lurking just below
my skin, the lust-filled poet-mystic. She
chats of cummings, karma and tarot
while cooking bolognese sauce with me.
Post-dinner, melting on my arm beside
me on the couch with baseball on the tube.
From there, off to the bedroom. Once inside...
well, kiss and tell is just extremely rude.
Ah, to be Young Frankenstein again;
creating love from Abbie Normal brain.