She Invited Me to Bed

She Invited Me to Bed

Her enthusiasm
was a machine
in the background.

She sat
cross-legged,
as naked as
a human's
gecko transparency,
and those
transcendent
pheromones
led me
to her lair;

once there
she lured me
by a firmer hand,
transposed,
to her inner
sanctum.

She invited me
to bed,
and once in
pulled out
the 9th volume
of that very
most stellarly
interesting,  
"Outlander."

She was on
about page 40
or so,
flipped the corner,
and asked me
if I wanted her
to turn up
the tv.

She read
quickly
and
with grave
attention.

I tried
that
for a few
minutes.

"Ancient Aliens"
could barely
be heard
in the living
room.

I'm there
now,
writing this,

and
it's not
the first time
I've had
this dream.

I'm dreaming
now.