Date Night in Absentia

It started with the soft behind my knees
Flush to the wooden pew-
And tickled up my hamstrings,
Travelling from my sits bones around my hips
to the pelvic handles you grip like an accordion.

Along my waist, your fingers travelled
Playing the keys of my ribs
To Blue Rondo a la Turk,
My heart oscillating from congo to snare,
Wishing you were here for this,
Remembering the rhythm of our music,
Imagining myself your instrument,
Breathing so hard,
So very fast,
Awash in the vibration of the Mambo Kings’ climax,
Your name on my lips
Like an alto Sax.

By Kirstyn Smith


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *