I Think We’re Alone Now

 I Think We’re Alone Now

 

 

Now, where does this end?

it’s quite too much to take,

slamming on iron anchors,

tugging up stiff handbrake,

a dual pedalled, two foot,

hard shoulder, emergency stop,

half amused, half shocked,

lifted up before he’s dropped.

Still, now she’s lying on his sofa,

left side on and back fronted,

a perfect fit, all unreaddjusted,

one arm flung, up and over,

shading eyes from burning sun,

sandals that she keeps here

on the tiles beside her slung,

while the hooks and eyes

busy imprinting her salty skin,

embossed tempting patterns

that throb and ache within.

We’ll take a cup of human milk

swirled kindly into coffee,

cramp and pinch of blushed guilt

blooms red across your body,

know gaze of wrathful God above,

scowls upon this stolen love,

he fits inside her like a glove.

Wrapped both, peaches unflatten,

as fast rivers flooding his head,

brooks to cease all babbling,

complaints remain unsaid,

shrugs, sighs, takes his hand

and lead us both to bed.

Later when all do sit alone,

now ticks time enough to moan,

they’re reaching for the phone.