sending you a well balanced diet
and invitation for fun
plus the ambrosia of your thighs
like sliding my grip through
your slender fingers
grasping your hips
and scanning the barcode
it is a little memory on a cold night
and slipping into your neighborhood
when desire runs rampant
in a pretense of a short
walk around your blocks
desire punishes me like
a pretzel punch to the gut
and i only have this
to slide into an envelope
into the mail
in to the hope
that it slips into
your whimps
and fancy