You don't have to touch someone to touch someone....
Virgos are supposed to avoid temptation
A week before the blood moon,
Even if it’s as silky as a fingerful
Of buttercream frosting right out of the can.
I wear a skirt with brass buttons all the way up the front anyway,
Most of which I leave dangling and undone,
Their snug corresponding holes closed like prim mouths.
Maybe Virgos have to avoid temptation
Because of their reputation to give in.
Once I fixated on the pebbles stuck into the tread of your sneaker.
It stayed with me for days, the thought of being a pebble
In a shoe that you wore.
That week’s horoscope read “retrace your steps,”
So I figured it was open to interpretation.
When have any of you spring signs listened
To the horoscopic instructions we virgins follow to the
Letter? You give in to your desires every chance you get,
Lucky things, and come out sated and sleepy,
Back to torment beings like me, stricken with lust and an inability
To read fortunes.
But I forgive you, spring baby
For the square you landed on in the calendar.
Heading down route 2, I see the bodies of my favorite animals:
Possums, skunks, and one flattened snap turtle,
Looking more like a blown tire than my slow and steady mascot.
Mars is close, and blushes in the afternoon sky,
I can’t get to you soon enough.