A Fool's Halloween
-----------------------
Back in her car we shared
vodka and orange juice
from a McDonald's cup.
She was a gypsy
I, a jester with plastic nose.
We listened to Beach Boys
on the radio. Inside,
under the dance lights,
her cheeks had flushed
in faux rouge. Now
her hands were cold
over mine and as one
they glided, haltingly,
burning the silk of her gypsy pants
under the trmble of my fingers
till the elastic band gave in
just enough to find the cavern
on her stomach's smooth flesh.
"Look," she said. "A gypsy's belly button."
But there was no looking
as the bar rush then
filled the parking lot
with clowns and spidermen and pirates.
----
mG (11-24-04)
***
First Relief
-------------
My first boyfriend, Rob's fingers -
those furtive extremities
tendered by flicking the pages
of the Bible since he was
born-again at ten -
rubbed the crevices between my toes,
slided along the soles of my bare feet,
crawled over on to my pants,
and I unable to stop panting,
felt them, determined like assasins,
trace the behind of my knees
and curve inside some length
up along my left thigh
and with deliberate retience
stop short of the crotch
only to jump forward
and softly land on the flesh of my stomach.
I did not giggle;
not even when his ring finger
circled my belly button
like a hungry dog dangerously close
yet never on the hole.
I sighed then:
the sigh of my first relief.
----
mG (11-27-04)
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