Belinda's in my seminar
and always comes late.
The classroom is at the end of a hall
and everybody can hear her coming,
her heels are so loud on the hard floor.
Cheeks pinched to flush,
and black stockings under
her crepe-thin skirt,
Belinda has layers and
she has colors.

Belinda sits beside me and when
assignment sheets get passed around
I pass her the stack, and
our hands touch,
she is stovehot warm, burns
glittertrails on my body
where her fingers graze my skin.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.