Priscilla 1966

Priscilla 1966
 
Priscilla seeks me in my dreams,
Alice Neel not invited
 
Her knees squeeze,
nervously glued,
leather flats scratching
the ochre carpet
without regard
for the spark she
could generate
 
Swirling colored rucksack of emerald,
kelly and aegean hangs
along her frame,
barely delineating a
delicate form beneath,
just hinting
of heavy breast
rising beneath the silk
 
Right hand floating
by her shoulder,
fingers flicking with quiet
urgency, releasing the
tension rippling across
her body
 
Left hand laid across her
lap, as if shielding
her from the desire
within
 
Her body, an endless grid
of light
and contrast, secrets
and hidden impulses
silently traveling her
vertical line
 
Coy hint of what
lies below
where
her thighs converge into
a quiet triangle
of muddled
shadow invoking
yearning
 
If only her eyes didn’t
carry the amber weight
of intensity
begging me to discover
what lies beneath,
tiny pinpricks where
my own lust
finds its reflection
 
If only she would move
her hand…