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Sexual Awakening of Taurus and Leo |
I was no astrologer. What I knew:
Hercules flung the Nemean lion
into the sky, so how did he end
up here under Grandmother’s quilt,
centuries later? I remembered:
A corset. His plaid tie. Two bodies
engaged in eating nachos
while drunk and dancing
while sober. There was more chemistry
between the cheese and chips
that night. Still—
we moved beyond the neon
signs and booze. Moved
onto a mattress. My caution
flung spaceward, I let Leo lure me.
His black mane ruffled between purity,
between tight sanity. His claws hooked
into the varicose veins
of my thighs. His back rode the lines
of moonlight and mini blinds, and I—
I rode his broken purrs
and roars so hard
that even my pillow tasted
the dust of Regulus: Leo’s chloroform,
not fatal when paired
with his half-cocked
smile and the hint of something
more than a one-night stand
between mismatched signs.
copyright 2014
Dani
Jimenez |
