WHILE AMY READ.
Amy reads from the scroll.
She reads well for a slave
Girl, Annona thinks, listening
To her slave girl read, the tone
Just right, the elocution just on
Key. She leans close, allows her
Shoulder to rub against the girl’s
Own shoulder. Intimacy. If Marcus,
Her husband, had been off on one
Of Caesar’s campaigns she’d be
Even more intimate with Amy.
They had been deeply intimate
Before his return. She breathes
In the air, senses the perfume
She’s allowed her slave girl to
Wear. Amy pauses and looks
At her mistress. Annona’s hand
Has touched her thigh. Read on,
Annona says, you read so well.
Amy reads on, the feeling of
Annona’s hand on her thigh still
There. Marcus wouldn’t sit and
Read poetry to me, Annona muses,
Moving her hand high on Amy’s
Thigh, he’d be too busy wanting
To shaft me. She thinks on his
Sexual efforts the night before,
The snorting piggy fashion, his
Damp haired head rubbing her
Neck. She wants Amy in her bed,
Not him. Her hands and kisses not
His. If he knew what Amy did for
Her in bed, he’d have her flogged
And sold off. Must be careful, she
Says to herself, kissing Amy’s soft
Shoulder, letting the words enter her,
The poetry bring some light into her
World. Amy reads on, verse after
Verse, her mistress’s fingers running
Spider like into her groin, she reads
On word after word, a dampness
Beginning between her thighs, her
Words falter, words become sighs.
