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Shopping
an erotic poem by
E. Doyle-Gillespie

We are lingering in the produce section, and
she is lean and tanned, all long arms and legs
in a summer peasant skirt.
She is braless today, round
and firm below the wisp of cotton that she wears,
and I am filling my basket
with corn and tomatoes, discussing with her the price of sustenance
in this place.
She twists her brown pony tail in her fingers, and
I decide that she is a newly wed and has just been christening the rooms
of one of those new houses that has sprouted up in the empty lot
behind this market.
She adjusts her glasses and I imagine that she was naked below the passing
shadows of a ceiling fan just moments before she covered herself with
this nearly-nothing of a dress
and slipped away to build a meal for the husband and her.
And as she talks to me about what she will plant in her garden this summer,
why she will never pay to be nourished migrant labor sweat,
or drink coffee that comes a hare’s breath away from slavery,
I decide that she will be naked again before she cooks for him.
She will be bare-backed on the cool Mexican tile of their kitchen’s table,
lean thighs spread in the brisk kitchen air,
Her skirt will be gathered around her waist ,
she will moan,
and the salt from her skin
and the smell of her hair
will nourish them both.


E. Doyle-Gillespie

 

visions of Ophelia - beautifully erotic, sensually stimualting nudes