Pleasure Poem by David Watts

Pleasure

Because she felt pleasure
running like that,
the speed faster,
the tight muscles tight
where the waist
curves its sharp turn
curving,
the hip moving,
the thigh
moving...

Because she said the word
pleasure
he was there
with his imaginary eyes,
imaginary hands
where the waist
makes its tight
turn, the hip
moving, the thigh moving... because

she said the word he remembered
pleasure remains
in the world
despite sorrows,
living on by the imagination.

Who should refuse beauty,
then,
when it blows its rare blessing
our way...
speaking in the voice

of this quick running,
the tight curves,
the excitement
even she didn't know she could feel...?

That is why when he thinks
of her
he will always
think of her out there
on the trail
running, flushed
and fair.