I couch myself, crouched arse out, towards you,

Smooth and perfumed, polished clean.

Your eyes should travel down my back, flared like a cello at the hip.

Down the length, white and shining of my legs

To the shiny red heels.

See the contrast, white and soft, warm dimpled

And the shiny, brittle, violent, vinyl shine.

Ohh, that you would be the hard to my soft

Tense to my dimpled

Taut to my submissive.

Yet you throw yourself down on the down.

Your meaty arm flung slack across the pillow

And your breath lengthens

To sleep.

I draw my face towards the wall

And weep.