BROWN-EYED HANDSOME MAN

She undid her dress
( I mesmerised )

button by
button.

I who had never
seen or even imagined

a naked or in this case
half naked woman.

She pulled her dress down
to her navel

imprisoning her
arms.

A real life Venus
de Milo.

Or a ship's figurehead
breasting the waves.

"Well, Julien...go on..or
are you only going to look!"

I too lost in
the magnificence of the moment.

She leant forward
placed her breast in my palm.

It was then I was
made a man.

All during the war
I carried

the feel of it

the heft of its beauty
in my mind.

Her breast
my talisman.

The memory of it
my lucky charm.

Keeping me safe
from all harm.

Even when my hand
was blown off

I could still
feel it.

When I returned
minus the hand

she couldn't accept it
the stump made her sick.

Left me for an American G.I.
with all of his hands.

Said he was from
Poughkeepsie

where ever that was
or was it really a place?

I stupidly took him on
fought him for her.

He had a good right hand.
I on the other hand had not.

I had a glass jaw.

She screaming:  "Get out...get out!"
He screaming: "*** out...*** out!"

I got out.
No never...married.

I still live in that moment
she undressed.

Made me a man.
Made me a better man

than I ever was.

She a widow now.
10 kids.

Survived a war.
Lost a woman.

Wish I...wish I
hadn't.