My face was a smear
reflecting on glass,
and yours, a beige smudge
rocking back and forth—
I wondered
if the background world
of the nameless
and the forgotten
would bleed through,
but the heat of your breath
pouring down my neck
showed me (with arching clarity)
that I could ignore
the foreign spatter
that stains the backseat
of your rental car.
© Nancy Botta, 2018
Rusted Honey 
Exceptionally clever. Evocative, erotic and even seedy, all at once.
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A great write.
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You have an ingenious style. Well done. Thank you for following ThusNSuch.
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