It’s called ‘Cheaper Meetings’

Weaving quilts of frosted youth

Like gap-toothed smiles in a photo booth

Cloaked in sheets of innocence

I walk along the picket fence

Painting words on your lips with hers

Love like the cats who chase the birds

Find one who works with a soft textile

Kiss the flower, wait a while

Arctic blue manicures

Dripping in diamonds, silk and furs

Hair that lives and bleeds and feeds

Creating skinless, spiteful needs

Suburban strips, cold and gray

Palm fronds on a windy day

Court-yards that divide the rows

Laced up the back with velvet bows

Keeping secrets behind lock and key

Dot the ‘I’ and cross the ‘T’

Float away on a southern breeze

Away from crowded city sleaze

Find solace in calming company

And stretch your spine and taste her sleep