Two Poems

Table for One

My eyes are closed
in the village café.
basmati rice wrap
goat cheese.
My lips graze your lap,
on my hips your legs
urge my hunger on.
A thousand miles away
no phone call for days.


I enjoy a black and white photo of my model
lying on her stomach nude on the studio bed
her long red hair tossed to the side
obscures her beautiful face
but her luxurious breasts so recognizable
even in my dream
pressed into a mattress
her derrière the cello section of a symphonic orchestra
posed as did my first love wait for me
on our summer cottage bed
after hide-and-seek in the cool evening
foreplay in front of the warm flames of the fireplace
we leave no cliché of romance unfulfilled
we rehabilitate them so others will not lose hope
we consume slowly 
warm croissants with Bavarian cream
nickel coffee
in that diner in Lincoln we enjoy after a movie
before you start crying
and my poverty condemns me to a life without you

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