Crossing XXIV
by Jnana Hodson

When your closet eyes sparkle, I cough up
for pizza delivery, hoping we stay put on your carpet.
In your privy array of lace garters,
you demonstrate such meticulous coloring
I cobble a central dormer just to view sunsets.
There, fronting unbridled wind, I examine
figures matching meteorological changes
and tidal variations before we munch popcorn
from your oily wooden salad bowl. When you play
the spare archway of your briefs, I dicker.
At last, we paddleboat into turbulence
where isobars lock together and it’s man overboard.

When the final straws blow, you faint,
a planet of forbidden yum yum melting at sunrise.