I am driving
45

my skirt
pushed high
upon
my thighs

revealing
tanned
pressed
skin
and pale
propositioning
fingerprints.

Would
you
like
to
lick
this
rain
from
my legs?

springwater
bounces
from my well

and I am slowly
criss-crossing
in traffic

reading upon
my skin
faded, running
lyrics

(felt tip pens never last till sunrise.)

retracing butterflies
drawn by
nighttime flame.

And I am in love
with wet skirts
in the
springtime.

(lilac fragrance soaked inside my patchwork hem.)

Driving

45

Sedated.

and you,
I think

should
spend hours

watching
my
curves.