I walk in lazy serenity
no stockings to interrupt
the flow of legs and feet
My hips are fluid
my dress brushing
like gauze hands gliding
My thighs whisper tales out of school
and dream of your hands
between them
your face
between them

but your face is elsewhere
shamed and guilty
and your lips are preoccupied with
saying "I do"

Feet crossing hot pavement
hot through gold sandals
hot like the coals we test each other with
Hips thighs calves ankles feet

Tell her, "I do"
with the smell of me on your fingers
with the taste of me on your beard

You don't mean to be cruel
to either of us
I tell myself you don't mean it

You don't mean it like
I do.
 

Florida in Vegas

Las Vegas isn't muggy,
I insist while dropping
ice cubes down my dress.
I catch them beneath my breast,
glide the cold
across my belly,
let it melt, slide
down to the top rim
of my panties.

It's a dry heat.