I
had noted the seductive sultriness of your green eyes
your
oaken hair
your
smoky breath
your
thighs, your belly, their junction
I
had bundled feelings into a bag called Love
that
should rightly have been called Desire or Lust
or
some other more animalistic function
And
so to fashion some sort of introduction
where
none could be found naturally
I
walked the dark passage to your door
knocked
to say hello and see
if
you could lend me sugar
a
cupful
a
spoonful
perhaps
a small granulated cliché
You
invited
me in
with
the sultry seductiveness of your green eyes
your
oaken hair
those
thighs, that belly and the triangulated junction of the two
while
you, seeking
the
fundamentally unnecessary
sat
me in the kitchen
plied
me with tea
although
you had no need so to do
but
proved yourself as amiable
as
you were desirable
I
was buoyed by the scent of your sex
the
musk of you as you curled
around
me in your kitchen
the
whisper of whirled air
caught
in the vortex of your movements
swift
soft,
yet
deliberate
You
smiled sunshine onto the tiles
wiped
up my nervousness
with
a damp cloth
while
my heart danced
and
then I loved only you
forever
and
I painted images
with
the eye of my mind
of
us
old
with
the children visiting
and
grand children
named
after us
while
you talked of nosey neighbours
and
bus routes
and
the lack of good shops
And
so when I left
with
the sugar
I
was swinging
through
the clouds
on
my way home
as
high as a simile
Yet
only when I
sat
in my kitchen
poured
the sugar
into
my lap
as
if it were
your
fingers
undoing
me
only
then
did
I realise
you
were just
being
neighbourly
because
after all you were just
my
neighbour
and
the empty cup
crashed
to
the floor
as
I sobbed
syrupy tears
