Scented, she stood naked before her bed,
perfumed behind the ears,
roll-stick under her arms,
strawberry rinse between her legs.
“I’m ready,” she said,
but the limp brute on her bed
with grime on his unshaven face,
three days of sweat festering in his armpits,
the oily smell of plastic all over his skin
and the odor of piss between his legs,
had fallen asleep.
‘Just as well,’ she muttered to herself
and lay down on the couch,
her fingers dipped into scented oil.
June 17, 2004
*a line from “The Tomb” by Randall Garrison
in personal pronouns
April, 2004, p. 31
Eastern Michingan Student Media