Poem for the Day: Saucy

Saucy

This man with the sauce bottle
has great hands
his shirt a neon sign
but it suits his silver hair
carved, brushed skin.

I imagine undressing him
in a room
where he smiles
etches information
into our private sleep.

Perhaps we're drinking coffee
from each other's lips
buying chips and fish
enjoying layers of the day.

Then I return to my first draft
of Lake-side Friends.
The rest of my poem
I gift to him.