Shark fin soup
is not an aphrodisiac,
unless you get off on
unnecessary death.
Leather however,
has its place,
from the sultry booth
where the jazz spoke
your gestures across
the room
to the belt that slowly
slipped off your trousers
after the ungodly length of time
it took to unbuckle in a frenzy.
Yeah, leather has its place,
so soft and hard and suede,
and made to fill your coffin
with memories of sadomasochism,
to pull out of the nightstand drawer
and spank the vertical smile
into howls at the moon,
to the boxing gloves
you want to strap on
after that long car ride with
your significant other,
even in the halls of justice
where it’s sworn upon
or in the brothels
where it’s sworn at
like a dog that’s misbehaving.
Plus, shark fin soup can only be eaten.
Leather however,
can wrap and slap and tie and bind.
