You wash your car in a red bikini

Looking like some Marilyn

Not Manson but Monroe

I watch like some lecher

Peeking over my book

Drinking my lemonade

Standing on my head

Anyway you want

You caress the sports car

I imagine touching you

Running my hands over

Your full body, fine lines

Polishing, kneading

Caring for, washing down

I’d be a slave for you

A thousand moments captured

In your heart-mind-soul

I’d lick the dew from your body

Hold loves thorned rose embedded

Forever my bed crimson with passion

If you were in it

I’d give it all up for you

But then your husband

Comes out of the house

And he’s no Joe

 

Copyright 2006 Joyce Tres All rights reserved.