For Jose, there was no woman
except for the one he slept with.
The one someone had to inflate
with a hand pump and muscle.
There was no one like her,
an hourglass figure,
a voluptuous movie starlet,
beautiful, realistic, and plastic.
They worked well in the night
with his mangled body
and her, no breathing nor movement too.
He wished that one day
his body would come alive,
hers would enliven. too.
So they could embrace and make love
with the window shades wide open
under the stars and full moon.
More poems like this in my chapbook of poetry, Magical Yogis. Click the link to Magical Yogis at the top of my home page to make the purchase.
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