Benedictus
Benedictine in a tiny bottle,
tongue in, tongue out,
mooning, dreaming, face
of the boy who’d borrowed
a dollar last week, but
won’t speak to her now.
She slips her fingers
past her waistband, a new
face, the man who fingered
her five years ago during
that movie The Nun’s Story.
Audrey Hepburn’s face joins
the man with his warm hand,
they both touch her, delicate
then rougher till she comes.
She returns to her homework:
J’ai veçu seul; sans personne
avec qui parler veritablement.
Alone with St. Exupéry in the
Sahara; Benedictine in a tiny
bottle their only sustenance.
Dumpster Fire Press 