S\h\a\p\e\ /S/H/I/F/T/E/R/ Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Concerned with my pain
the old shoulder acting up again

you sit
astride

my back
as if I were a horse

cluck the reins

press your heels in
as if they were spurs

& tell me giggly
to giddy up

“What happened the massage? ”
I neigh.

“Oh yes! ”

Your nakedness
slides up & down my back

the moistness
of your sex

burning into my skin.

“Is that good? ”

Your fingers probe.

I moan.

Then moan
again.

Glancing in the mirror
I see me

like a snail
& you my shell

& now I
the octopus

in the Japanese erotic print
DREAM OF THE FISHERMAN’S WIFE

both of us
joined now

at the hip & lip

softly becoming

something else