there could never be enough summers of the naked shoulders of Evelyn Paulsen, ex-San Diego beauty queen and former starlet cheerleader debutante wearing her favorite red dress with the perfect shoulders exposed beneath her butterscotch thick hair, flaunting her lawless libido as she stroked the pendant suspended from her neck filled with the cologne of so many young lovers she devoured insatiable as food.
but now she is gone, forever vanished into the haze of circumstances beyond my control and therefore no more naked shoulders slipping easily through a sleeveless red dress on a summer’s day like today, gone forever the exquisite arms of evelyn paulsen’s astonishing condor wingspread.
impossible to continue without her, wanton woman at apex of her passion realized once in a billion galactic traversals like some streaking comet of sexual velocity heated to infrared before dissolving into the cosmic inkblot.
and so I lie here caressing the absence of her nakedness, humming myself to sleep to melodies of masturbation moonlight.
one in a billion