I would begin with your boots,
would want you to relax
till it was time. I would want 

you to do the same, would imagine
you gliding those zippers down 

with ease. Snaps
on your shirt would sing
their pop song 

as I pulled them apart
to discover what I’ve imagined
would be strong, 

broad, well-covered. Amazing
what you can see
through all that hair—this hiding 

is a writer’s only true lover
who waits in the dark.