You draw a simper
from the space between our greetings
where your obedience transcends
the edges of me
and a gaze goes wordlessly
beneath the table

I am at the mercy
of your amenity
Whisking coffee by the same measure
we undress our eyes
like esurient thieves of communication

You curve the lines of me with acquiescence
as I embed your body in a single glimpse
of soundless regard
forming a response on the slant
of your hips

And you serve me open-palmed to the intimacy
of disrobing smiles
as my compulsions trace you
every time you slide the cheque
Onto my table

01/26/2005

Author's Note: His name was Arion. Seriously. He was beautiful.

Posted on 01/26/2005
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