The Librarian
An auburn glow
of freckled comeliness
not young not old
a little thick set
like a mature cat
When we pass a book
between us
our fingertips withdraw
scalded by small print
The room is crowded
but it is far away
like a story in a closed volume
We are alone
beyond the codex of morality
We both know
that I want to lay her down
on this tiled civic floor
to imprint a passion
upon a mute press
There is an understanding
a regard
that fast birds
and slow elephants have
for mutual journeys
I envision
her creamy thighs
lofted high
her sensible skirt
pulled over her head
as we grunt sotto voce
between aisles K to Q
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
