The Woman who Lowers Her Legs
She lowers her legs down -
the woman.
I try to recall a name,
three come to mind, they don’t fit
with the blue flowers on her inked ankles,
Alpine Gentians I think,
they ring around slim ceramic hued bones.
I like the equine arch, and roseate blush
of her dainty feet.
The woman lowers herself gently into my well.
I kiss the soft dells behind each knee.
“There, that’s better.”
she says. “Got anything to drink?”
“Just some imported beer,
some Asti, a little cheap vodka.”
“Got tonic water?”
“Sure.”
“Make mine a Vodka and tonic then.” She says brightly.
There’s not much space in my dream well.
I ease around her, fixing the drink
stealing looks trying to place her face,
her nerve tingling nakedness
confuses my thoughts.
“Ice?”
“Go on ducky,” she says in a cockney accent,
“cozy in ere innit?”
I look down at my body, yesterday’s underpants,
I remember I have not cut my toenails.
“Bottoms up!” She exclaims.
I gulp my cold beer
trying to think of something to say.
“Staying long?” I ask.
“Can’t luv, naked girl dreams don’t last long.
it’s the eyebrows you see, can’t control em,
after a while we blink out.”
“I love you”
“Oh you are sweet,
ever thought of remodeling this well,
not much room for fiction down ere?”
“Well, I was thinking of putting in a sex dungeon
but I am not very practical.” I answer.
She rises slowly upwards smiling knowingly.
“I’m not her you know, nor the uver three.”
Watching her ascend,
I say: “I know,
you are the woman who lowers her legs.”
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2025
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