Ooh la la
these puffy layers are sweet,
a dream to eat in the quiet night.
Licking of layers of crumbly glaze,
I note the coquetterie
of your battery flashlight,
glowing in the dark.
It's you, fresh as a 13-year-old,
reading comics under the covers,
waiting for nothing at all.
Breaking off an ungainly chunk,
I pin you down
and push it in your mouth.
You struggle laughing until
I lick the glaze from your mouth
and we swing.
Adulthood adulterates,
alienating the diver from
the surge of waters closing overhead
and the blissful silence of the world
finally shutting its yap,
only the sound of bubbles
and breath.
Watching the colored fish,
feeling the living coral of the reef,
and ignoring the pull of the guidelines
stretching back to the surface. |