we fell behind
talking, kissing, exposing
science and anatomy
at the back side of fine
filet ass grabbing
in the alley to rear

wet objects falling on an open sky night
from some upper place
windows way above
spilling fluids

unfriendly tasting though dirty palatable
waxy, hint of vanilla lemon cherry-
aggressive olfactory barbed wires
suggesting consumption, my lips, your exquisite nose

my main consumptive urge is with your rear
my front and fallen objects rising
you earned my reach, stumbling grope
tripped by your straps half stripped
held down for the telling

the story you say,
your long slippery girl ride
that night that fight that ended atop her end
your crouch, her perk, your crotch,
the straddle, her resistance, your saddle, it’s silver rings
that forced her over down and across pressing
your nipples
hard to her spine, bruising suck brands slightly
lower and behind mirrored upper inner silky taut thighs


when you wake, her message is spiked to your pillow stained with tears:

”Falling love, assumed catchable, impacts
moments before failed grasping hands walk away with one skinned knee and a smirk.
No trace of blood except in his spermatozoa you covet and gulp. Or, another ballerina or barely legal gyro gymnast…
Where were you, my slut?
Who with, my slut?
I can barely wait to hear!


~The Other Woman~”

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