Oh of course.

What dappled sunlight rays

coast across your skin,

to kiss these nestled spots

I've deigned to open.

A picnic in Vienna.

A pair of lips encased in

blue cotton candy. This

tree trunk outside our

hostel embedded with

buckshot. Of course.

Why not ask directions of the

antediluvian figure

plodding along the roadside.

Sinewy legs I've caught,

I thread between mine.

We watch a black and white movie.

Of course. What else

could it be?