Delia Abed. Poem by Terry Collett

She knew
it wouldn't last
with Chrissie.

Chrissie
was too moral
too limited.

Delia wanted
more sex and booze
the fast life
to see the world
and play
Bach or Bartok
on the piano
at five
in the morning
before the light
was dawning.

Now she lies beside
that young student girl
whom she befriended
after the Proms
and who sleeps
beside her now
full of soft fruit
and juices.

A viola player
not bad player
up for it after
a few drinks
and dinner at that
posh restaurant.

She wonders
what Chrissie
was doing now
whom she was with.

The young student
is lying face
turned towards her
mouth slightly open
sleeping like some
picture book princess
or sleeping beauty.

Delia smiles
feels hungry
feels hungry
for sex again
wants to finger
the honey hive
suck the juices
nibble the soft fruits.

Her father
is in Spain
sunning it
with that
young rich bitch.

Delia scratches
her thigh
and thatch
feeling an itch.