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camilla renschke

consciously cute like a teen

tearaway courting favour or

beseeching forgiveness

in an afternoon TV romance,

appealing as a guide dog puppy.

 

but when naked and alone

with himself,

he’s urgent

and determined,

concentrated on release.

 

his hands work furiously

his brows drawn

together in a slight frown.

 

his breath comes fast, his eyes close,

the dark lids flicker with the late

morning sunlight filtered through the

breeze-blown striped orange curtains.

 

he is dappled and incandescent.

a few intense minutes

with his hands down his pants

and all’s well that ends well.

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