Fashion Model

don't tug on your sweater.

don't let the taste of your bosom fall short
of tender lips; don't let the inclination
of a startled mind keep you awake.

the elastic sheath in which you parade
is uncanny. the way your hips form
a dire canyon makes my fingers move

over walls, bottles, glass boxes makes me tired
and weary—makes me breathe softly
under your breath; under mine.

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