She unravels her scarf
Strands of hair cascading like waves
Bouncing off the shores of her shoulders
She undoes her blouse
Each button takes her a step closer to me
The cream garment flowing down to the floor
She stands before me, at the foot of the bed
Pulling down the zipper on her black skirt
Drawing the line that she so eagerly wants to cross
The skirt falls to the floor like a curtain on opening night
Her hips swaying like a serenade, as she climbs into bed
All black lace and crimson
LITTLE TALKS 