No. 7 Make Love To Me Mango Cake
it was always a surprise
hearing his keys land on the black lacquered demi-lune
the front entry mirror
catching his coat wishing by
often it was madagascar vanilla bean
dainty with sweetened coconut
on friday nights he gave me his double chocolate
tuesday seemed to be raspberry swirl cheesecake
and sunday reserved for tangy lemon of one kind or another
he would walk the long hall from the vestibule to the corridor
that leads to my studio
he’d stand in the door frame
leaning against the milky aged wood
watching me work; waiting for me to turn
smirking
holding a bleached box
neatly tied with baker’s twine
and if i was the luckiest girl in the world
(which i am)
inside would be the greatest cake of all
his specialty, his gift to me
his strong arms would stretch the package
towards my embrace
and i’d sense
i’d peek inside
pulling the end of the string
a bow undressing, seducing
lifting the lid
and there
in glossy sensual goodness
was our favorite mouth teasing desire
one that could arrive on any day, at any time
unexpected, lovely
‘make love to me mango cake’
- Patti Friday, Society of Prophet Men, Selected Poems