Rutting

“Has hell frozen over,?” she asks.
He says, “No. In fact it's hotter than ever,
As I am. You ought to take me to bed
Right away,” and she does. A trail
Of discarded clothes, like the crumbs
Kids leave in forests in fairy tales,
Marks the way from her entrance
To where they end up. What they
Begin to do goes unsaid. You can
Paw through the web for pictures of it,
If you'd like. When they finish, they order
Lasagna for take-out. They eat half
The pan, then they sleep. When the morning
Arrives, he follows the trail of clothes
Through the hall, putting on pieces until
He is dressed. Then, he gives her a kiss
And awkwardly thanks her, opens
The door and strides away.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 20 times
Written on 2021-07-07 at 00:16

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