The Breaking In of a Boy

The Breaking In of a Boy

I just knew I was going to be

late that night ..

the scenic route called me

to the foot of

her bed, where written in

red candle wax

on a dressing room table

and caught

in the reflection of an old

broken mirror ..

were instructions detailing

precisely where

I might lay my weary head ..

these were met

with a series of serious,

if not truly,

magnificent blushes, plus

huge beads of

sweat, the size of wrens eggs ..

and I was right

I didn’t get home that night ..