Relax, Relate, Release

Let us forever cling to the trifecta
of perfect peace, as said in tinfoil
twang, tinny-bright charm left unspoiled,
unstaticked, smooth. And who better
than cheeky-rosed Whitley, peanut butter
on her mouth’s roof, accent glued, to roil
a soul into action? Debutante doily,
centerpiece of what no one expects her

to master: herself. Beauty, unlined
with mind, makes for the breezy
whims of a woman mapped. Hear me roar,
she yelps, thrown to the wolves kept behind
the house. “Come back anytime—it’s easy.”
The lights dim on a boat without oars.