In the Groove

 

 

    I have been her.

    that shameless hussy,

    eyes shut tight

    swaying uncontrollably

    balanced on the tip of her clit

    with the nerve to sit

    in the front row

    watching her man

    our man

    play his axe

    get his groove on

    saluting others of

    us

    stars in his constellation,

    who, for that brilliant moment

    recognize the gravity of each other's presence

    a necessary pull

    less we each spin off

    into the chaos of a no bodied cosmos.

    Aglow in the free jazz funk

    of discord, now made harmony

    by his self absorption that we

    tune out telling each other's pussies

    across the layers of his lines

    isn't it classy

    how he manages so much snatch

    with skill and fervor,

    in public no less,

    creating a flourish for each labia

    so singular

    so unique

    we

    don't even care

    if the other exists.

 

 

(c) Anna Beatrice Scott 2000

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