This fragrant flower
has no power
to release its fragrance
except in this dark hour
when the world is still.
Pornography sitting on your window sill.
Fragrances, like jealousies, are enough.
Not the mass, but the lone example.
Oh it’s rough.
Superior to you, the finest torture you can imagine.
It’s happening better for someone else,
releasing its fine fragrance,
and, just when you thought it had no power,
now look, it’s her. It can happen.
But only in the dark. And only for an hour.