Milka and I
played
my Elvis Presley discs
in my room

on the old
blue record player
on the floor
she sat

on my bed
while I sat
on the floor
changing the discs

as I went along
she held up
one of the LP sleeves
Fun in Acapulco

she said
I like the cover
isn't he cute?
not sure

I’d say cute
I said
I like him
but not in a

cute sense
she read the blurb
at the back
can you play this?

sure
I said
so she handed me
the LP

and I put it on
the player
come sit next to me
she said

so I went
sat next to her
on the bed
and she leaned

against me
her head
on my shoulder
and I put my arm

about her
while Elvis sang
I can tell
you like Elvis

she said
you even comb
your hair like him
and smile like him

I smelt her scent
(borrowed
from her mother
no doubt)

felt the soft cloth
on her flesh
my fingers touching
her arm

where'd you get
the red stockings?
I asked
seeing them clearly

for the first time
they went well
with the green skirt
I thought

Mum got them for me
the other week
do they look ****?
she asked

you're already ****
I  said
she kissed me
and Elvis sang

a Mexican
sounding song
as she did so
I sensed the wetness

of her lips
her tongue poking
between my lips
tongues meeting

her arms
about my waist
my spare hand
on her thigh

Elvis singing
guitars playing
a trumpet blowing
we lay back

on the bed
the blue lampshade overhead
she closed her eyes
lips met

tongues engaged
hands moved
in the background
Elvis grooved.