I cling to Michelle Pfeiffer’s ebon jersey
as we tumble into mustard green fields.
Rolling in trampled stalks, her murmurs
transform from playful purrs to caterwauls
and hisses, feline meows to full red lip kisses.
Both our bodies liquefy like Dali’s melting clocks,
leaving me in delirium ecstasy unable to grasp
my consort clad in a Batman Returns t-shirt.
The DC dreamtime favorite endlessly morphs
sporting multiple lives, teasing mutual curiosity
as she pours her body into Selina Kyle's catsuit.
Mesmerized, I’m hooked and imagine sensuous claws
itching my back, stimulating nerves like a cat-o’-nine-tails
gratifying signals to an emotionally starved brain.