Something In The Way She Moves
had chocolate bunnies
brought up to his bedroom that night.
He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he missed her
rebellious upturned nose.
The way she strutted right up to the edge of the moat
pivoted and then sashayed back through the garden.
Circumventing the flower pots.
She stirred something in him.
It wasn’t indigestion.
He didn’t need three pillows to sleep at night.
No, Katya was his Helen of Troy
the march to his madness
the trigger in his grip
the flush to his toilet.
mused the Bald Wonder
adding another twig, weaving it accurately.
the time will come.