White Out

The imperative color
to be brushed in is purple,
I tell her, over canvas/kisses,
green like Ingres (Odalisques
over again, ours), so that I
might take the weight of
white out, spherical wrinkle-
coated burdens, lay them down
(whitely) in a big blast on
a cul-de-sac hieroglyph'd
surface of yours, which stretches
with melted glass, coated/slick
over the concupiscent canvas,
enacts a vague sun rising/disappearing
on a vulval horizon, yes all this
just to see you open your
mouth, humbled to be used
this way (I mean when it
happens you bow to it), then I leave-

(third parties gawk through a black door at us)