It’s your lazy eye
favorite sling-back flats.
the poorly crafted white lie
preceding your every decision.
But it is not the premeditated hint
of hot pink satin as you squat
before me in low-hipped jeans.
It’s the pucker in your tights’ toe
at day’s end, the midnight blue
bra-strap peeking through
the dark beauty mark hidden high
on the inside of your right thigh,
your occasional too-sleepy kiss
goodnight, and the way you steal
the covers after saying you’d
shut the bedroom window.
May my own eyes never
by Jay Black
New Book by Longbridge
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