walking slow, oh it could be called dancing
crowded with Bourbon Street night people
music filling the air, we stop every so often
wrapped arms around each other and swayed
firing up to the already hot-blood New Orleans
seems to affect all the out-of-town tourists and
the nights are specially made for physical reaction
big easy, sin city, whatever, a city of cool coitus
her willowy body pressed so close to mine
her face in my neck nuzzling and groping
I feel her eyelashes teasing, pleasing, my neck
we're fused together with lover's super glue
she broke away, her café au lait eyes
dancing
as she tiptoed up to speak softly in my ear
in her intense and absolute Cajun accent
sha, we gon stay out heah on da street
all night
lovely Denise needed not to say anymore
I danced her back to her pad above Galatoire's
and it wasn't just to get the grime off when
we showered with plenty of soap and water
©May 20, 2012 / Jerry Pat Bolton