Across a Canvas

I creep,

Then wait

Upon the bed, as bait,

And keep hands about the knee

Like a person in a painting

Positioned,

A statue,

Too patient

And so, damned

Impatient.

He creeps,

Underneath

Grabs and tugs and slaps

Until muffled things emerge

From the black rubber

Between our lips.

It continues and we scream now

Like we are having

A very,

Ugly, tantrum.

We creep,

And howl, like big dogs unleashed

Into fields of meat.

So when the final crashing call

Dies

There seems to be a pair of eyes,

Behind my eyes,

That play, like a film still as it twitches,

The sex,

Across a canvas.