Say young lady with the soft blue eyes
do you wear pink for comfort
or for style? Does your hair
flow like a river perpetually
as it does naturally,
and the ring that decorates
your brow, does it glimmer
in the moonlight
the same way it reflects the midday sun?
Do you sip dry martinis
with those wet lime-red lips?
And what do you do on Sundays?
Do you sleep in
or rise early for hotcakes and coffee?
Is your life bland and dull
or tart and sweet
like the perfume you wear?
Did your diamond-studded nose
come attached to your figure;
did it come with the complementing
pierced navel and silver barbell
for your flat tummy,
your uninhibited belly, buttoned
with desire,
or was that special order?
Do you love fine art
as much as you inspire science
and do you read for pleasure
like the wind that brushes the skin
of your legs
like a book cover hugs too close?
Will you caress the gentle hands
of my knowledge, knead the hard
look of my wandering globe,
and will you lift the fabric
of your melting
dancing
stare
and show me
your newest tattoo?
Poetry Sunday - Tattoo
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