by Brian McCloskey
You kissed my mouth as if it were my sex. Next I was handed a pair of pink tights. Tights and pumps, it makes it easier to stab her in the foot. We don’t want to have the thing going around bumping into walls. And my hope is eighty airplanes. I was overwhelmed by the sensual feel of the nylons, and the delicious freedom of bare thighs. I expressed my fondness for women in pantyhose and feet. I would pick up a pair of tights, sniffing them for a long time, beginning with the feet. Brush up your teeth. The brindle milch cows stood like blocks of juniper, waiting. It snows, and the dusk deepens, and nobody really loves anybody. It will be worth it when your man is ripping your pantyhose off with his teeth. Do you find underwear, lingerie, or hosiery erotic? Is it a kind of apple ghosts eat? You’ll just have to get a pair of black stockings to wear with that dress. I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance again to be in the same room with so many beautiful Japanese women in tights. I was already wearing the hose so next on was the girdle. Today I am in short skirt, tights, tall boots, and long jacket. But the universe still owes me an umbrella! There could be cubes the size of gorillas. Who would have thought wool and plaid could fire up so many libidos? Most recently, he experimented having sex while wearing pantyhose. She loves doing that while wearing a black opaque stocking over her head. Once I am in that space, I try to push further the boundaries of that space. This is me breathing. Or flatten my body into the tiny room where ghosts have been known to lurk. I want to have my breasts kissed so bad. It’s the screw for my warble. The golden flowers of wild radishes bite.