James Leader: In steinsel Woods

ISBN 978-2-919818-64-8

Scratching

‘Father, it’s me again. As promised,
we’ve held back from … you know, the sex thing,
so now, instead, he runs his fingers
along my back, like a field he’s ploughing,
and my body tingles, though my shirt’s still on;
I do the same to him, a little scratch,
and that blue flame, like the one that flickers
above a burning spoon of rum, it leaps
back and forth between us, and it’s very nice.
Father, is it the flame itself is wrong,
is that the devil’s touch,
or is there no harm in a little scratch?’