Old Loves ~~ anna hood

Her old man don't know
she braids 'em in her hair
ties each one behind
a shiny gold bead.
Hundreds of 'em.

Her old man don't know
she keeps 'em in her pockets
hidden among Tic Tacs
grocery lists
lint.

He don't know
they swim the crimson
pathways of her legs
and arms, that they part
the secret spot
he can't find.

She lets them out
at night when it's dark
enough to die
her skin technicolour
bright
brazen as a peacock.

They kiss her
with wine hot lips
phantom tongues lick
her sweet juices.

Her old man grunts
reaches for her.
She sighs, tucks them away
her fingertips glowing
like pearls in the dark.