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Let me brush away protest with your hair,
unbutton passion with your blouse,
stroke red blood into your pale lips,
make of you a river of wriggling, squirming life.
You are so clean and orderly.
I want to play to the secret smiles
that dance over your lips.
I want to disarrange the perfection
of your careful control.
Afterwards you can tie together again
your vagabond hair,
hide your scented body under stylish clothes,
stuff joy back into the corners of your eyes.
No one will ever know
that you carry laughter between your thighs
except me,
and I know already.
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