she even looked a bit like you

outside the port-a-john
leaning on the livestock pens
trapped between twin stenches
I hold your purse like a 
used tissue

“don’t go anywhere!”
so I go nowhere

just throw my head back and
stare at the empty sky
letting one hand dangle
like the hollow cross
between your breasts
last night

a confused calf 
in the pen behind me
thinks she recognizes my
dangling fingers  
sucking them into her
slimy mouth
with the gravity of three hundred
black holes

she’s dragging me into her world

long lashes welded shut
eyes working furiously behind the lids
trying desperately to 
suck something out of me that 
just 
      isn’t 
                there

I extract my frothy hand 
wiping saliva on the tail of the
flannel shirt that 
goes so well with your
favorite braided belt

toilet door bangs shut
“did you miss me?”

hands around my neck
you suck 
    me into your world
long lashes welded shut
tongue working furiously

“tuck in your shirt
              sweetie
it’s time for our couple’s massage”


© 2019 Leo Durrant

The Old Man in the Mist
Pepito at Peace