The Babysitter

[Ghost]

On the ride home
you lower the window
and the air hushes down
the low throb of song.

You are warm beneath your dress.
Your hands lay in folds
in the heat of your lap.

Before I came you doused my wife's
"Joy" on the soft of your thigh.
You are tinged with sweat and secrets.
I breathe a deep, slow draw.

Your hair is a wild dance,
strands of it writhe, reach
in an ecstasy of wind.

It is a long drive, and dark.

My fingers curl white
along the length
of the wheel.

[the mingo]

www.youtube.com/watch?v=2SCjjdokTaA