Unbutton meslowlynot because you must,but because you enjoy the undoing.Let your fingers lingerat each clasp,as if patiencewere a kind of hungerand you've decidedto feast on anticipation.Pull the fabric asidelike a curtainrevealing something sacred.Let your mouth followthe path your hands...

There are certain moonlit nightswhen the garden calls.I value my time there.Not the roses.Not the lilies.Not all that otherfancy shit.The tulips.Especially in July,when the humidity won't let up,and the windows are open,and the whole nightsmells like sweat and heat.Put...