There was a time where I didn’t know
How to wrap my arm around a woman.
My hand trekked along the theatre seat velour
Like a trepid boy in a dark musty cave—
Sweaty with haptic eyes.
At the climax
I stretched for what I thought was light
At the end and pierced her shoulder blades with my elbow.
She cringed like a wrought sponge.
She probably questioned why she left her comfort
For a boy that’s never touched
A woman’s heart let alone kiss
What lies above it.
“You’re not even doing this right”, she whined.
I wonder if she’ll stay with me
To see the credits roll.
I never thought I’d see the time
Where a woman was so quick to wrap herself around me.
She heaved my hand around her thin waist
On our way to the nusuede seats
Like an assassin would the corpse of his victim.
My hand crawled about her flesh
Like an overindulged glutton about a dark steaming
Buffet—stuffed with newfound room for dessert.
Before the previews were over
She made sounds as full-bodied as the theatre’s
Speakers. Her control grew weaker.
I felt like a director.
She probably questioned how she got so fortunate
As to stumble upon a man who knew
His way about her like his lust came hardwired with GPS.
“Where’d you learn a woman’s body so well?” she asked.
I wonder if I’ll get out of here
Before the credits roll.