Open it gently.
The top one, at least.
Blow back
then smooth the nape,
ripple tingles where
the dressing is light,
easy to tear,
but bear it for now.
Each piece falls atomic,
your chest shakes
as the last divest
shows a woman
shy, ready,
hungry.
Sonja Broderick
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/prelude-3/
