I can build a house on your thighs.
Your legs would be the foundation.
The echo of anklets would suggest
something really illicit going on
in the basement.
The neighbours come asking if we
could look after their eight-year old
for the day. They’d be surprised to hear
we are leaving the country like right now.
But you aren’t even packed yet,
they’d counter. She just needs her
stockings, I’d smile.