Legerdemain, or Nostalgia, the Oldest Profession, Pumps Her Prince of Magic, Recollection by Karen Neuberg
(previously published in Barrow Street)

1. 
Facing the river           sunrise,
my building,                 do you stand at your window
in your satin robe,       where you showed me,
sipping coffee,             sleep rumpled,  wondering . . .

2. 
When you first opened             your robe,  you were naughty
as a magician                     stuck  fairly in my centered beast.
You let your  eyes, urges          drift                                       
mirrors with both of us           up front              to explain how much
taking was giving               no story   except us,  why
we ever stopped ever is        is          not             sleight of hand.