BLACK OPAL

The sound of a happy basketball

pierced his earlobes

Still, his lower half had gone

into extreme heat,

held by the palms of his opponent

who seemed to be a caterer

who’d shown up to the party hungry

The fabric of his silks were ankle bound

until he chucked his feet

out of the pant sleeves

The lamppost outside grazed their skins

The abandoned teacups were left trembling

above saucers on the sleek black desk

behind him

His palms rested on its hinges,

gripped its edge with a hungry weight

His gaze averted out of curiosity

and the brown pools of his eyes

caught heat of the opal of black sky

Its dazzling black heap

was the perfect accompaniment

to the smooth current of Sade’s voice

humming through the record player