I took him to my hotel room
by Betta Rouse
and we undressed. I
was all over the man. He took to
my hips and legs, kissed my
toes, my legs, all the way
to my pussy, and on
over my belly. I wanted
his cock, and crawled over him,
mouthed him, rode him
into the dawn, and the next night
after a day of wines and paintings
left with him by train for Paris.
We did it all again, on folding seats,
right to the edge of the city.
I thought to keep him at my studio,
and we climbed to it, feeling of one another,
long kisses up against the walls,
all three flights of stairs,
but I couldn’t bear leave him there,
dragged him to the apartment,
where we ate supper with my husband.