Legs (Redux)


Legs (Redux)

Yes, I like your legs.

They’re two of the most perfect
Things I’ve ever seen,
No wonder you take pictures of them
From your chaise longue
With your camera phone, to taunt me, to tease me,

Don’t tell me you don’t, don’t scold me,
You’re not being fair,

And I’ve seen some great legs in my time,
I am considered one of the foremost connoisseurs of legs
For the 21st Century,
This side of the Mississippi,

But yours are special,
Marilyn Monroe in the updraft
Has nothing over you,
Not too boney,
Not to hefty,
Just right,
Putting my mind to rest,
Perfection is thus proven achievable,

But then the post puberty
Violence seeps in, a playful kind of violence,
If there is one,
Like when a chimp becomes an adult, no longer innocent,
No longer trusted,
Evolutionally dominant at the drop of a…,

And I want to wrestle with those legs
Like God wrestled with Jacob
I want them to pretzel around me
I want to feel them flex
I want to put my hands and fingers between them,
Until the hot blood and oxygen begin purpling
Through their psychedelic cartography,

Those perfect legs need to be worked and worked good,
But not too good,
One must never dream of intentionally bruising
Something so exquisitely existential.

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