When you came into that room
moving with …
… heart-stopping …
… bewitching grace,
a walk to please the gods
high held head, exquisite neck
the sway of skirt.
You picked from the pile
a magazine
… or was it a book …
sat on an easy chair
nonchalantly,
perfectly
gracefully,
with no hint of haste,
wrapped your legs under
your beautiful arse,
the most feline femininity.
Affecting not to notice me
leaned your head
so the sun could highlight your hair
just so,
turned the pages …
You were Vermeer in the window light
Matisse in bold and simple strokes of dance
A Saigon butterfly peddling home in white
We made love on the floor
and on that easy chair
three nights later
… or was it four …
Chris Perley
2015
