This robe’s been on him
I can smell his feet
Soaked into the velour
The rose
The gray has touched the feathers
On his stomach
They tickle me and I can
Almost believe in him
I feel his arms pushing into the sleeves
I feel his hard-on poking through
The parted curtain of the front
He tied the tie
He wore it hung and slack
He made me tea in it
He got himself warm
