(()) High Tea With Tiffany

Poem By Dee Wright

“Can you pass
the sugar dear? ”

she smiles
ever so sweetly

as she tells me
loudly all too loudly

she likes to take it
up the arse

more than

one man at a time

and that she simply adores being tied down and...

takes another scone

clotted cream
on her upper lip

startling against her
red lipstick.

“Tiff! Tiff! ”
I whisper

Too much information! ”

Miss Straitlace! ”
she says

I ain’t having any of it.

She licks the cream
of off her upper lip

with a little pink tongue
smearing her lipstick

looking like a harlot
& the Whore of Babylon
all rolled into one

watching with greedy green eyes

the waiter’s bum
in that tight tight uniform.

We sit in silence.

Unable to
bear it

any longer

I have to ask her
(she smiles knew I wouldn’t be able to resist)

“How…? ”
“...many times! ”

“And whom with...? ”

“With whom. .! ”
she corrects
like a seasoned dominatrix.

whispers Tiff conspiratorilly drawing nearer

her bosom grazing the edge of the China cup
spilling the hot tea
into my crotch.

“No. …OOOOH! ”
I shriek

the name lost
in my scream.

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