It came in a package too pristine to open
A box of quiet dynamite,
Muffled with tissue paper
Under a whispered film of disguise
Only restrained by a single golden seal
To be unleashed only by the daring new possessor
Chosen by default, a lack of any better idea,
Smart luck maybe
Or perhaps they chose you, for your lack of opposition to suggestion
Evocative and immaculate
With trembling fingers afraid to touch
These cannot be for me?
These are not mine!
Who do you think I am?
Sheer perplexing gift, not the image I see as me
Shouldn’t you know-
I had been in flannels too long!
Oh, what trouble this gift would cause?
Liberating sensuality should be “handled with care”
Liquid luxury woven in threads,
Fully exposed-naked and draped in material,
Fluid and solid Immaterial feeling
Eyes without sight provided by the darkness of night
The deafening joy of touch screams
In the romance of night, between the sheets
Hugging, whispering, caressing lonely places on my skin
The sense of touch
Weaving webs in my soul
Pores breathing and gasping for air,
The air of luxury, the air up here is sweeter
A box of silky chocolates gets devoured
An unquenchable craving develops with just one taste
This gift needs no returning, these silk pajamas are so me!
A warning should be given to the giver
Who never knew
How wearing silk pajamas will utterly change you
Out of the cocoon
and into your arms.
Image credit:By 文同 English: Wen Tong (1018–1079) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons (ink on silk)
