“Can you pass
the sugar dear? ”
she smiles
ever so sweetly
as she tells me
loudly all too loudly
she likes to take it
up the arse
likes
more than
one man at a time
and that she simply adores being tied down and...
takes another scone
clotted cream
on her upper lip
startling against her
red lipstick.
“Tiff! Tiff! ”
I whisper
“Enough...enough!
Too much information! ”
“Ok…ok!
Miss Straitlace! ”
she says
miffed
I ain’t having any of it.
She licks the cream
of off her upper lip
with a little pink tongue
smearing her lipstick
looking like a harlot
& the Whore of Babylon
all rolled into one
watching with greedy green eyes
the waiter’s bum
in that tight tight uniform.
We sit in silence.
Unable to
bear it
any longer
I have to ask her
(she smiles knew I wouldn’t be able to resist)
“How…? ”
“...many times! ”
“And whom with...? ”
“With whom. .! ”
she corrects
like a seasoned dominatrix.
“Well...”
whispers Tiff conspiratorilly drawing nearer
her bosom grazing the edge of the China cup
spilling the hot tea
into my crotch.
“No. …OOOOH! ”
I shriek
the name lost
in my scream.
Dee Wright
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/high-tea-with-tiffany/
