Flannel

A tawny-eyed girl lilts about the house
In my blue oxford at the end of the day
Because she knows I adore

The perfumes she leaves behind,
When I find it in a drawer
On a far-off day.

It's her one-piece suit
And she knows what kind of hold
She has on me as she returns to bed,
With milk and peanut-butter cookies.

After the room darkens, we struggle
for a share of the comforter
and flannel sheets. Spoiled,
I give her whatever she wants.