Who was this Athene with attitude, this
unstartled Diana stripping sensually in my
small flat, this Gilda prepared to shed
rather more than a glove?
Who was she who caught my eye at the
crowded bar, spoke first when I couldn’t
imagine what to say, and got
straight to the point?
Who was she who bared her small
sharp breasts, her sharp hips, her
lack of underwear, with the
shake of a snake?
Who was she whose hot mouth
clamped itself to mine, whose
cool hand stroked my sex to an
unbearable hardness?
Who was she who made my bed a
maelstrom, folded like origami,
had the strength of an
Amazon in her tiny torso?
Who was she who was gone when I
awoke, her smell all over me, her
dress where she’d dropped it and her
impossible heels askew?
