My Poetry: A Gin Evening

A Gin Evening

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"I don't read", you said,
I replied I did, then
On bare tree evening
Became Illiterate while
Leafing through the lines
On your face, during pauses
In pregnant conversation,
Noted folded arms,
Right hand raised to bare shoulder
Then a touch of ear,
As you slid back your hair;
Trigger movements, maybe,
Between cucumber sips
Of botanical liquids
Drained hi-ball refilled.
Your red lips, smacking tongue,
Was still yet to release
Fears and neurosis, then
Later, you leaned inside
My arms and surprised me
With a cool gin kiss.
So I took your hand,
Led you through dark morning streets,
Where the only stars shining
Were outside late night bars,
To once barren bed
And as we lay naked,
but for candle light cover,
I finally stopped reading.