Breathless

Breathless,
meek as milk,
her sex sits
gazing
at the man
in the blue flannel suit.
His hat watches her
like plans
to go shopping
or shooting birds
off the chimneys.
Why does nothing taste good,
she thinks
and why do friends
hold grudges?
He ponders her earrings
and pours coffee
into the sink,
thinking his wife
should know better by now
and dreaming of
how a woman's bare back
tastes sweet
undressing itself
like a camera.