My hips don’t lie
It's all about the game of the thigh
There's something liberating in that thrust
Bread crust
leaving trails of frail phone calls
Jeans that don't fit
Passports that never fly
It's all in those thighs
Flying by canteen stores
Vintage clothing
skinny dipping
skirts that never go up
And there's nothing but acceptance
receptions and greetings from scrumptious
hooligans
A pant pulled up too tight
a blouse that doesn't fit
fingers in between thighs
A bored night at the bar
No feelings attached
skin on skin, body on body
triumph of the Titans
something borrowed
an element of fragment
bite the flesh off that thigh
Can you see the mark
Hell hound from Supernatural
teeth baring and snaring
cry wolf
My hips don't lie
ask the fabric
Ask the woman who sewed my body suit
There's a strap showing
off your halter top
Take a minute and cut it with your teeth
you don't fit in with the background in the family photo
The Last Love on the Left
What do you do
when all the love is gone
promises broken
beds left
cold and crusty
with phantom bodies
What do you do
when the hands are brought back
withdrawing from the embrace
in the silence
of the movie theater
once warm with cackles
secret jokes and jackals
What do you do
when the caress becomes
a baroness
a barred fart
something to hold
heart-to-heart
What do you do
with the love that's left
in the marionette
female vamp
tramp going to a camp
Silver Lake
where all the murders of the heart took place
What do you do
with the silence
after ghosted phonecalls
the zombie of a phone
that stopped buzzing
with new texts
Textile companies
and laundromats
which held secret, corny dreams
of domestic bliss
a man, a woman
two men, two women
on the corners of a lake
nursing babies, nurturing new life
into a world that does not resemble a mess
What do you
with all the love that you have left
The reconciliation of a debt
A checkmark
on the back of a cheek
A benchmark to imaginary geeks
signing off their anon comics
visibly threatened by your presence
What do you do
with all the love in your heart
not directed at anyone in particular
reflected back at yourself