Suit Sonnet

I love a man in a tight velvet suit,

Your velvet- clad arms to live and die in:

Your soft, cushioned felt purse lips to squash into mine,

Oyster silk- shirt skin to find underneath

In the crushed velvet cape dark

Of restlessness  (red lace ) and frantic heartbeats (thudding silver studs)

We clash and fold like red on hot pink, 

 Oops! Our tragic drunken Camden market mistake- buy

You are a vintage leather jacket,

Worn and battered, soft to the touch and a smell made for breathing in,

You are tight cord flares to unbuckle and unzip

To pull down over seventies cheesecloth hips, and find… a bargain.