Your blue brassiere smells of roses. I stop dressing up for the dinner. My hands untie my checkered tie. The next door neighbor’s bell is the only noise.
You watch me from the corner of your soul. No. No. No. You scream.
Too late, the slut of mine. My hand goes into your trousers, black one, very prim. Your panty is also blue. Its front is wet already. The unmistakable smell of your sex wisps up and invites me. I turn you.
Almost violently. A pair of pigeons coo on the window sill. You feel ashamed. Say, not in front of them. No. No. Yes.
I pull down your trousers. You press my head against your crotch. I lick your panty. You say, I need to pee first.
No. No. I say, Yes. You never pee in front of me. I always want to piss together. You run. I almost catch you. You close the door.
Lick me clean, you say.
My head tilted up in order to lick you watch a falcon on the distant terrace. Another bird, unknown, on another terrace.
“On these occasions one feels shy, Stupid. One must.” you say.
We see three birds. Again. I think I remember what my mother says about seeing three of these birds together. I think.
You think you should cover your face in your hands. The light part of your right hand heightens the shadowed part of your right and your entire left hand. Your face remains open as if your flesh is translucent, transparent, trans-something.
Kushal Poddar is the editor of the online magazine ‘Words Surfacing’, and is the author of ‘The Circus Came To My Island’ (Spare Change Press, Ohio), “A Place For Your Ghost Animals” (Ripple Effect Publishing, Colorado Springs), “Understanding The Neighborhood” (BRP, Australia), “Scratches Within” (Barbara Maat, Florida), “Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems” (BRP, Australia) and “Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems” (Hawakal Publishers, India). Author Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/KushalTheWriter/ Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe