“tense tennis,
man,” he teases tersely,
sipping his espresso.
staccato shots slapped
across stately spots stadium side
creates a careful couple morning
hours. stolen looks, slowly pulled
across takes of coffee through the lips
into the mouth. new articles worn:
how do they fall on the body– the shoulders?
the hips? the thighs? delightfully,
it’s deduced. the bodies boast as they contort.
our eyes follow the ball, and anything else
they can keep up with.