I’ll lock up your book
in my drawer full of secrets:
snakes in sand, silent.
My salmon dress falls to the floor:
I squirm like a fish in your hands.
Goldfish swim happily in your aquarium,
and the television blares.
Star Trek and marijuana,
taxicabs and wrestling matches,
Chinese food at Sai Woo’s.
With you, I am fast but never cheap:
too purified, too grounded for that
speeding in metallic cabs
down midnight boulevards
like the concubine of dreams.
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