The Breaking In of a Boy
I just knew I was going to be
late that night ..
the scenic route called me
to the foot of
her bed, where written in
red candle wax
on a dressing room table
and caught
in the reflection of an old
broken mirror ..
were instructions detailing
precisely where
I might lay my weary head ..
these were met
with a series of serious,
if not truly,
magnificent blushes, plus
huge beads of
sweat, the size of wrens eggs ..
and I was right
I didn’t get home that night ..