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my wavering, her urgent please
closes around me, pulls me
in. I look up at the froth
of clouds. Cappuccino sky.
The summer scent of jasmine
lifts from a tide of titian
hair, and there is no hesitation
now, no U-turn, no braking,
only relentless forward motion.
Propulsion. A kaleidoscope
of titian. Jasmine. Cappuccino
clouds. And every trace of Nikki
dissolves in Leah’s warm rain.
ONLY AFTER
We are finished,
clothes zipped up,
hair smoothed,
does the thought
cross my mind
that someone
might have seen.
Enjoyed watching.
Got off themselves,
maybe. My cheeks
burn. Can’t say why.
Only after we have
exited the alley,
started back along
the sleepy street,
toward the hectic
