She Tells Me Not To Worry

She tells me not to worry

            of tanned caramel men

            speaking Catalan

            running their minds as

                        mine races

around the curves of her thighs

as they transform into gluteals.

                        My mind: the gluteal.

She tells me not to worry

            I selected her bikini            

            before she booked her tickets

trying to simulate

a visual stimulation

I was wrong, those sequins shine for them.

                        The shine: mating flag.

She tells me not to worry

            her middle finger

spring-loaded

safety off

neither of us feel safe.

Believing no one

I believe images when they arrive.

                        Vision: clarity.

I’m telling myself not to worry

            of tanned men

            falling in love

            with my shine and vision

            my bikini and my mini-skirt

            my heels trudging along

her heels:

my weakness.

           

-Grant Durando

7/5/12