Little Crush
September 2, 2004
You have no way of knowing this,but I have silently catalogued
every observable, erotic detail
about you.
It begins with the wisps of brown hair
that have escaped your braid
to make little swirls on the back of your neck.
One thicker strand curves in thoughtful counterpoint
to your hooped earring.
It is a perfect day to catalog you.
It’s going to be hot and humid,
and you have dressed accordingly.
The neckline of your summer dress
droops just so—to the lovely shelf
at the top of your breasts.
I could be crass and pause here,
but I won’t. It’s the small things about you
that matter. Accessories, for instance,
are everything, but sparseness is key,
so I am delighted to trace your unsleeved arm
down to three slender bands of silver
cascading around your wrist.
Perfection!
And suddenly motion—the banded wrist rises—
and your tanned fingers absentmindedly
find the thick strand and return it to the braid.
Your lips purse, you exhale slowly,
releasing the first of the day’s heat,
and your wrist returns to your side.
With all the world’s expectation,
my gaze returns to your braid.
I have to get off the trolley at the next stop,
but the wayward strand is already pulling free again.
There is time still, my dear,
to capture the next detail,
to record the next delicious gesture.
— Bill Trippe
Posted by Bill Trippe at September 2, 2004 1:43 AM
