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whistle stop
you invited me to your aunt's apartment
so I made up a quick lie to tell mother.
"There's lights at the tennis courts behind the school."

you wore a green bikini, something tiny.
it made me sweat all over when you stood to
fetch us sodas from the refrigerator.

"Let's play a game." You said and kissed me again.
"What kind of game."  I asked, sweating more and more.
"Whistle stop...walk your fingers up my leg and
I will whistle loud when I want you to stop."

More sweat and shaking fingers gave me away
but you loved me like we had been together
before, Cleopatra and Mark Anthony.

My index finger pressed into your tanned skin
high on your thigh and I thought to myself that
one more step and we would have to get busy.

The phone rang, and you answered it, explaining,
whispering:  "We're babysitting, afterall."
I didn't even own a tennis racket.

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post #61
bio: nate

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