Cinnamon Peeler

If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
and leave the yellow bark dust
on your pillow.

Your breasts and shoulders would reek
you could never walk through markets
without the profession of my fingers
floating over you. The blind would
stumble certain of whom they approached
though you might bathe
under rain gutters, monsoon.

Here on the upper thigh
at this smooth pasture
neighbor to your hair
or the crease
that cuts your back. This ankle.
You will be known among strangers
as the cinnamon peeler's wife.

I could hardly glance at you
before marriage
never touch you
-- your keen nosed mother, your rough brothers.
I buried my hands
in saffron, disguised them
over smoking tar,
helped the honey gatherers...

When we swam once
I touched you in water
and our bodies remained free,
you could hold me and be blind of smell.
You climbed the bank and said

   this is how you touch other women
the grasscutter's wife, the lime burner's daughter.
And you searched your arms
for the missing perfume.

       and knew

   what good is it
to be the lime burner's daughter
left with no trace
as if not spoken to in an act of love
as if wounded without the pleasure of scar.


You touched
your belly to my hands
in the dry air and said
I am the cinnamon
peeler's wife. Smell me.

  ~ Michael Ondaatje

I’ve only recently become aware

I’ve only recently become aware
Of the significant role
Of which you play in my ability to breathe

In           out

The simplicity of my actions
Underestimated and taken for granted

Until, that is
Half of what I now know as me
Is taken away

Without understanding or expectations

In            out

The opening and filling of my chest
Now burdened
By the colder half of your double bed

In            out

I try again
Same result
Half full and incomplete at best

I give in

Now fully aware of the significant role
Of which you play in my ability to

Breathe


 ~ CR

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Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I'm not sure I've been a very good girl this year. I tried really hard, but my pussy got the best of me. I'm fairly certain that I've earned a spanking, but please don't bring me a lump of coal. Is there something I could do to make up for my bad behavior? Any thing at all?

From,

A Woman who Finds it Hard to be Good

P.S. Don't eat the brownies until you get home.

Vibrator Boyfriend