she divides against herself

to look into her eyes this morning after
glazed over like the blue steel
of a winter river
all that can be heard is friction

crashing slues of ice
rationalizing the night before
she divides against herself

trapped by the ragged edge of fiery
a tight wire of putting out,
or was it taking in?

breathing in again
the textured moan of his hips
as she sucked his cock deeper
giving in to what seemed expected of her
feeling all the more
like trash for it

silent and alone
the crumpled paper bag
of a bum's empty bottle

---

just as a braided lock of hair

might serve as a book mark
or article to fondle, while
contemplating a lover

apparently
so do soiled panties
for some

a much more sexually oriented
and intimate expression,
is the scent and feel of this
secretive article
as it piques the imagination's
fantasy

from a simple lock of hair
(from head to pubes)
to sexually soiled underwear
we each have our own means
of whetting the appetite for
intimate "contact"

and while one man still cherishes
something in blue,
a cotton shirt worn often,
bare breasted,
against her softness
left behind in love and scent

somewhere,
another woman boldly speaks
of wishing for that ever handy
seal a meal machine
to send her military man
some panties