so moist
so moist
this cake of rose cream
and pistachio
when we meet
to share vanilla lattès
on wobbly stools
for a moment
she wears a frothy moustache
and we laugh
and talk of diets
and glass ceilings
and low-hanging fruit
I lick the soft-sweet icing
from my fingers
and lose myself
staring into the space
between her lips
for just a moment
ML lives in the UK and writes short poetry, medium poetry and prose (all lengths). ML has had work published in the excellent journals Black Bough, Twist in Time, and Bleached Butterfly.