Escapade

The disgusting drink is working
clouds of patchouli lift me up
and my cloak is left behind

Hypnotized, caressed
by downy hair of sheep's wool
I dream of floating heavily

up to dancing hands
and it doesn't bother me what
thoughts of lust you secretly

smear over my skin
You may watch, even touch
me where it is not allowed

I am safe in the bubble
of confidence that I have
blown around my nerves