iPast-times

iPasttimes

if we were courting in 1813 and i
had wowed you with a glimpse
of my porcelain white ankle
from under my muslin empire dress
i’ll duly confess
it is i that succumbs to giddiness because
the sight of you in those tight
very tight
breeches has left me suffering all
the symptoms of a heaving bosom
sir
i am all a-quiver
i feel faint with antici
pation
of our first kiss and with
scandalously slutty intentions i suggest
we get loved-up on laudanum
crash a dance laying down some baroque
and bass and banging mozart tunes
then i’ll incarcerate you within
the ringlets of my cascading curls
because sir
and i am certain you are aware of this
if a gentleman wishes to congee
from his lover
he should leave her weak-kneed and in a veritable
state of bliss
for that
kind sir
is the rule of law in my bedroom