Athena Dixon and Brian MacDonald

VESPA by BRIAN MACDONALD

 

Vesper by Athena Dixon
Response
Across the square a stout
brown leg swung up and over
the seat of the Vespa. Fluttering
in the breeze her skirt, a slip of blue
cotton covered in tiny white anchors,
swung up and over with her. Tumbled
when the fabric caught and twirled
her to the square. A slight movement
designed to hide the expanse of thighs,
her attempt to find a graceful way to rise.
When she finally managed to pull
her body from the ground, a plume
of gritty dust came with her. The anchors
were weightless, sacrificed their worth
for my momentary gain of flesh.

 

Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *

*
*

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>