Space Hopper

When I was young I had certain ideas about the penis.

What it should look like. A heavy slung thing like an elephant’s trunk

Which would inflate very slowly, and silently

Dark, ruddy colours

Slightly monstrous, off-putting.

Your cock is like a work of art.

No strange ruddiness here, smooth pale and rosy pink-purples

Like a princess’ rain-jacket.

At first quiet and modest

And then later a stately dance

A waltz, 

one-two-three, one-two-three,

Sweeping asymmetrically up your thigh

Loosely stuck there

back between the legs, wobbling

Springing like a space-hopper

You are 
Just walking to the curtains

And it’s a 50's dance hall down there.

It twitches

Knock-knock

Against my pelvis.
Not demanding, nor persistent

Your expression serene

I smile at your eyes

And let each of you

Take different parts of me

To the floor.