somehow safely
it seems
no one will look there
but
unique mind alike
looks in places
just like you do.

bottom drawer, withdraw.
bottom drawer withdrawal.
window
washing
machine
man maul missing.
copper coloured top
powers rotating top
top of the range
rubber flex
sends us flying.

and whatever next

kids at school
private moments
to tame the desire that drools
and who the naïve to foolishly think
the magic stick shall lay undiscovered
those prying hands
curiosity lives next door to desire
and desire always
gets us all in trouble
we think of bizarre explanations
if secret discovered
those damn 8 year olds
we curse them in the same breath as love.

but we share the same double sided burden
is it really trouble after all?

come clean and admit it
what writing left to scrawl salacious secrets
if sat astride the same telescopic Hubbell
I can see it closely
tickles better than husband stubble
close the door
ajar is distracting
a honey pot relaxing, we melt.
rythme more in time than spouse apparent perfection
all these lonely moments.

-release is the goal in mind.

even though the house lays empty
bottom drawer is just a comfort zone
hassle to hide in holy home
may forget where you put it.
so bottom drawer, private place, apparently
don’t forget,
cover the picture of the priest
or your family photograph
ironic that this desire yields so much more
than pro creation feast

what’s in the bottom drawer?
did you go for gold
or the latex dolly herd, they all look the same
open mouthed a tame bird silent
singing all the way to heaven
once spent, a quarter past eleven says hurry
right the family portrait, distracting
feels like eyes upon us
a spirograph that writhes
wiggly lines down my side
feels like electricity sometimes
this mornings was a good one.
all sunshine and scattered showers
face down the family portrait, double take
for they shalt not feast eyes upon
purple pleasures
nor rake up my scattered leaves of fickle fancy

yet good vibrations cross boundaries
and united in release
everyone’s at it, even the vicar im sure
bottom drawer, closet or attic
everyone knows
everyone’s lame secret
this street and this world
this religion from the foot of toes curled in pleasure.
What’s in your bottom drawer?