I slept with a girl
Tall and slim and elegant – a beauty
with (naturally) raven flowing hair,
that she stood before a mirror, brushing.
It glistened as, naked, she crossed the room
and slid beside me on her perfumed bed.
We appraised each other – kissed and fondled.
The headboard beat a tattoo on the wall
in time with our grunting, sweating, wrestling.
She asked for a favourite fantasy,
but pink fluffy handcuffs are not my thing.
I dashed to the freezer, found choc-ices
to spread on her body and then lap off.
Not what she asked for – that’s how ‘bed-life’ rolls.
I slept with a girl. We did not make love.