You see, I did not want
to take refuge in
simple description:
yellow-gold hair
glass-blue eyes
and palm-filling breasts.
I treasured instead
the crease down her belly;
the snake-curve of her back;
her almost-silence as we slid
together, that betraying gasp
muffled against sodden skin…
and oh
god,
I have already forgotten the rest.
*****
M.A. Mohanraj
October 8, 1996