Treasure Island

Neil Carpathios


In Victoria's Secret, Near the Bras


The woman wants to know if I need help.
She's seen me fingering the lacy cups,
thinking of you
and those pendulous orbs
that swing above my naked nights,
that harden like stones
and fill my mouth
and box my ears
and glisten.

I should tell her when we're spooned together,
how they pancake, flat,
against my back,
when you brush your hair
I watch them in the mirror,
barely jiggle,

how to the sweat I sucked
from each sweet nipple
still on my tongue-
to all your body's miraculous ways
that gauge all need,
I return.

And that's why I browse
like a bra junkie
lingering what must seem
too long,
needing a fix.

Submitted: Wednesday, May 14, 2008
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