Tell me how you pass the hours.

That slanted smile,

does it hide shackles of pride

(I have mine too)

You are my obsession,

that intensity of pleasure

that can’t be restrained.

What I know of you

I’ve learned through osmosis,

the taste of ozone like breathing air.

In worldly dreams I am wearing

lace and leather

waiting for you in a Parisian cafe

on a sultry side street.

Is there shame in what I am compelled to do?

You can tell me.

art by Michael Garmash