Monday

The inferno of the weekend passes, not lingering anymore,

as the dawn of sanity arrives with household chores;

vacuum, clean the bathroom, mop the kitchen, wash the dishes.

Mrs. Dalloway gets down to business,

with pleasure, such pleasure and willingness and enthusiasm,

Mrs. Dalloway with her hidden wild heart.

The demon is banished for now,

as the kids are at school,

the spouse at work,

and the day stretches herself in front of her like a seductive,

lime-scented,

milky-white, promising,

nubile mistress.

Fearless, Mrs. Dalloway looks at her, smiles her most alluring smile. Oh, darling, how I missed you. You have to only stand there before me like that, delicious and cloudy and misty like this morning, gorgeous and naked, with a few leftover Christmas pounds on your lovely hips that only make you look even more bewitching and beautiful, and I feel like grabbing those exquisite hips and pulling you against me and giving you the most wonderful, amazing, galvanic kiss you have ever known.

Monday! Monday!




(Dedicated, today, to Stevie Nicks. Without you, I don’t know what.)

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