Aunt Eudora's Harlequin Romance

She turns the bedlamp on.  The book falls open

in her mottled hands, and while she reads

her mouth begins to quiver, forming words

like Breathless.  Promises.  Elope.

As she turns the leaves, Eudora’s cheek

takes on a bit of bloom.  Her frowzy hair

thickens and turns gold, her dim eyes clear,

the wattles vanish from her slender neck.

Her waist, emerging from its ring of flesh,

bends to the side.  Breasts that used to hang

like pockets rise and ripen; her long legs

tremble.  Her eyes close, she holds her breath—

the steamy pages flutter by, unread,

as lover after lover finds her bed.

Marilyn L. Taylor

© 1998; originally printed in Passager.
Reprinted by permission of the author.