For Jessica Rigney
By Christina L. Felton

She moves with unhastened intent.
Her flask in the bag on her hip.
The nip of whiskey she offers.

Her long body.
The inviting length of her legs.
The arch of her back from so many asanas.

She smiles, eyes peeking over frames.
Her skin deeply kissed
By the sun.
Chasing rocks through the desert.
Wind pulling at long grey locks.

She shimmers with pheromones,
A Queen Bee.

The soft scent of patchouli
Lingering after her embrace.

We gather to drink her slow metered innuendo.
Her words chosen with skill and intent.

She lets us glimpse spaces and strokes,
But the whole picture is for her alone.

Sultry at any age,
She moves to and through us,
Reminding us that
sex is part of the human condition.