Tonight I will Dream of Anjelica, My First Ex-Girlfriend, Who Taught Me The Rules Of The Road ...
©Alexis Rhone Fancher. First published in The Pittsburgh Poetry Review, 2015
Anjelica comes on to me like a man, all slim-hipped swagger,
relentless, dangling
that red, ‘57 T-Bird at me like dessert. Lemme take you for a
ride, chica, she sez
after acting class. I figure what’s the harm, but Ms Angel Food
gets out of hand. I
don’t count on her heart-shaped ass, or those brown nipples
crammed in my mouth.
I don’t count on the Dial-O Matic four-way, power leather seats,
the telescoping
steering wheel, or the frantic pleasure of her face between my
thighs. I admit, I’ve
always been driven to sin. But Anjelica’s far from blameless.
She rides me hard,
week after week, double clutches me into ecstasy, hipbone
against hipbone, the
dulcet, lingering groan of our gears, grinding. When I confess
the affair to my
boyfriend he jacks himself off in the galley kitchen, comes all
over his unattainable
fantasies. He says he doesn’t consider sex between women to be
cheating, and begs
me to set up a threesome. I tell him the T-Bird’s a two-seater,
and watch his face fall.
I could end it, but why? All I can say is, I want her for myself.
All I can say is, I’m a
die-hard romantic. Anyone I do, I do for love.
relentless, dangling
that red, ‘57 T-Bird at me like dessert. Lemme take you for a
ride, chica, she sez
after acting class. I figure what’s the harm, but Ms Angel Food
gets out of hand. I
don’t count on her heart-shaped ass, or those brown nipples
crammed in my mouth.
I don’t count on the Dial-O Matic four-way, power leather seats,
the telescoping
steering wheel, or the frantic pleasure of her face between my
thighs. I admit, I’ve
always been driven to sin. But Anjelica’s far from blameless.
She rides me hard,
week after week, double clutches me into ecstasy, hipbone
against hipbone, the
dulcet, lingering groan of our gears, grinding. When I confess
the affair to my
boyfriend he jacks himself off in the galley kitchen, comes all
over his unattainable
fantasies. He says he doesn’t consider sex between women to be
cheating, and begs
me to set up a threesome. I tell him the T-Bird’s a two-seater,
and watch his face fall.
I could end it, but why? All I can say is, I want her for myself.
All I can say is, I’m a
die-hard romantic. Anyone I do, I do for love.
©Alexis Rhone Fancher. First published in The Pittsburgh Poetry Review, 2015
Alexis Rhone Fancher is a multiple Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee, published in Best American Poetry, Rattle, The American Journal of Poetry, and elsewhere. She’s authored nine poetry collections, including; DUETS (Small Harbor), and EROTIC: New & Selected (NYQBooks). BRAZEN, again from NYQ Books, published in March of 2023. Alexis lives in Los Angeles, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. She has a spectacular view. Find her @:www.alexisrhonefancher.com
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