forest calling
us from shopping
malls, strip and plastic,

I watch the
girl dress the
mannequin in the
storeroom, lipstick
seduces my voyeur side,

she bends,
licks the mannequin's
nipples, leaves red sexy
traces that I've been here,
spreads agape, she panties
the plastic girl in a red lace thong,
lays her down, climbs on her, rubs
her hot for display, pulls plastic girl's
panties off, tosses them in the hot bargain
bin, dresses her in a Sunday church dress,
flat white shoes, matching purse, takes her out
into the mall for display, shoppers take no notice,
Papa Don't Preach, Madonna blares on the mall
speakers,

forest buys
me freedom of
religion transformed
into an evocation of myth,
legend and folk memory,
agape, Papa Don't Preach,
her pussy like a geode, clit-hardened
full of splendor, her quartz crystal grows,
my tongue filling the core, laced inside, tiny
red veins, a prehistoric drawing on a cave wall,
poking my toes deep into the soil, her honeycomb
sticking out of a large crack dripping as a subtle art
form, my mouth agape, Papa Don't Preach.

Copyright 4.23.2010 Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist