Tickled Pink

by bubbles, is the nose?
And do those bubbles
rim the brimful drink,
pink like champagne? Or does
my tickle oppress your
flesh as it submits &
pinkens? Such rose tint,

skin molded by fingertip.
Yet doesn’t touch whiten, too?
That is, is tickle a more
buttonhole carnation hue?
Two parts abashment, three
parts abasement? I like
strokes of the cliché feather.

Others’ thoughts turn (slap!)
hot handprint on buttocks,
run to leather. Is what we
deem ticklish pink
dominatrix black,
all-weather
punk?