A woman glides her body by,
a body built to sate her lover.
The weight of eyes rides her shoulders.
She’s dressed as if she lives skin tight
and likes it where the light hovers.
Lord, your light hovers me over.
Deliver into my palm the left
breast of her who longs for my palm.
We shall heft such weight as shimmers
between one skin and another.
I like my rum dark and sweet.
I have no taste for bitter beer.
The woman sways her body by,
her beat quicker than I can hear. Lord,
her tempo jiggers through my liquor.