stranger danger?

Sex toy

Never had one, never wanted, never even thought of it

Somehow our love life lived! so simple and so bold

notion of such toys did not arise — felt inapplicable

like . . . sourcing clockwork spoons for sipping soup?

or . . . Bluetooth lipstick brush, perchance ?

Not a bad thing, not a wrong thing, just unneeded,

somehow trivial, too jokey, really not the point

Perhaps, almost, an insult to pure and perfect gourmet fare

on offer at our sweet nightly (sunbright, twilit) feasts?

Now everything so different — now this too

A shapely deep red rose . . . of yielding silicone

provided with a different, robust, curvy kind of stem

both throb/pulse/softly hum responding to your flesh, your touch

and then you throb/pulse/hum responding back

Odd history — sought potted blooms on Amazon

to send across the miles as wholesome birthday gift

and when I entered single search word — rose

suggestion popped up right away — rose sex toy (?)

appearing first, above promoted perfumes, before sweet soaps,

or seeds, or jams, or living green-leafed blooms

As if this oddball iteration was now new norm!

Was sort of shocked, and then intrigued

enough at least to click the box and sudden see

a whole wide world of floral solo sex on offer there

Who knew? (all knew, it seems, or many, just not me)

that flower human sex time was out there, was a thing

My own long-standing love for blossoms swift snapped off

and stuck inside my purse or shopping sack

as I walk down our city streets to check off daily tasks

this taste reads slightly different now — added meaning lurks

in long thick stalks and solid buds of randomly plucked rose

thrust deep into front pocket of my pretty shoulder bag

And, soon enough, returned online and clicked to buy

And soon enough the deep red rose arrived

Inside a handsome textured matte black box

And when at last I tried, to my surprise it swiftly/smoothly took me!

took me back to feelings, heat and dreams from so so long ago

before bereavement, brutal loss, long deadheart solitude

Strangely similar sensations — body still remembering

still seeing, wanting, needing . . . still capable of glad.