Dana Jerman

Toast

Blame the Veuve Cliquot & get ready to not be able
to concentrate on anything, because your girlfriend
is super horny for you she just rubbed two out. 

Blame doctor Dom Perignon, tumbling naked
wishes you were here wrecking her hair and covering her with kisses.
Deep mouth open sucking messy gorgeous unstoppable kissing
jilling her off a third one Oh—

She’s straight… outta the shower, undressed,
and doesn’t identify as monogamous for fucking fuckery’s sake,
she identifies as lightning, as wanting. As a sexual longing machine—
desirable destined for your arms.

As fuckable and functioning and ready and awake, hungry in love.
As mad and wild and ravishing and human and feminine.
As much yours as anything could ever be.
Deep as a sword could be plunged into a heart.

Blame the perfume in the starry cascade.
The spark back in sparkling. The light back in nightlights.

Blame the Moet for hot pulses coursing like a train
toward high times in this low life. 
Cristal too for Laying lying lacking lunging for
lustful reasons for here she is, refulgent. 

Never mourn nor pine for what’s right in front of you—
Come in haste like bubbles poured out to waste
this beautiful goddamned golden day
in this magic bed with her.