O, to be that curvy woman—
lolling on that sprawling couch
pink as vulva  

peaches piled, spilling off coffee table
plate, each like an ombre sunset
rolling from ruby to burnt orange  

between tall vases nestled with morning
glory & orchid & gardenia & amaryllis—
they fondle air  

then fall & land on table Buddha’s breasts
her rubescent curves gilded a gold
like koi scales flashing on July afternoons  

as they breathe water & sun & moment
glide sinuously, open-mouthed,
wriggle in ecstasy, O                                          

~inspired by the art of Alfredo Roldan