
As we passed your table I threw you a double take; you’re too young to know that oldest of tricks in the book.

Now I’m face down on duck down, your full weight upon me; tits squished against my shoulder blades.

You lay down on your side beside me, the three of us then top and tail, like sardines in the thin oil of morning light.

When the bad moon rises, I want to see the bad girls – the ones who know the satisfaction of control.