an unrehearsed universe

Bristles

1. You sat me astride your lap
despite a room of empty chairs;
in full view of the scandalized class,
you nonchalantly licked my earlobe
as if it were a lollipop and you
a rambunctious five,
prompting the professor to stop
lecturing on the lives of amoeba
to glare impotently in your direction. 
“Carry on,” you said,
having no such problem with distraction,
only discretion. 

2. "For you," you mumbled gracelessly,
brandishing a bouquet
of flowering cotton thistles. With that
thoughtful gift you subverted
my mockery of your bristly Highlands pride.
The exuberant purple flowers, bracketed
by spiny-winged stems, were an apology
for your dour countenance;
the twinkling amethyst platinum necklace,
draped like twine around the bouquet,
was meant to hold us
all together. 

3. You kissed
the inside flesh of my knee
with lime.
"We're having body shots,
and I get to pick the part,"
wielding that impish grin unerringly,
a dagger thrust into
previously unknown erogenous zones.
Would it have mattered
had I guessed what lay behind
that sloppy citric caress?
After you knelt on the floor,
rubbed salt onto my sweaty skin,
I was open to anything and everything
you could throw my way.

4. You never promised
what couldn’t be delivered or spoke
sweetly of forever. A thief in the night,
a wandering minstrel, you wove
in and out of me with pleasure and ease.
And I, a fool, was drawn to the
striking irregularity, unpredictability
the lure used to tease and trick
a jaded palette into otherwise
unpalatable sentimentality.
And I, a fool, was occupied thus:
you, by paying attention,
won me one ridiculous feat
at time.