Kissing Mick Jagger

Okay I am about to confess to
the strangest dream that I have had in
well a long time all in all
picture an antebellum mansion
whose décor cries decay and decadence
in scatted boxes upon the floor where
a stranger tells me that Mick has
always had a crush on me and I
should take the time to tell him good-bye
I climb a sweeping staircase to a room
cluttered with half packed boxes and items
scattered about the floor and furniture
in the center of the clutter sits Mick and
he is sorting through junk to select keepsakes
and placing them in a small wooden box brightly
painted with egrets in flight and secured with
a small golden lock he rises and greets me
with the comfort of an old friend and asks me
if Shelly told me, well, if Shelly told me
I nod and he, apologetic, says he hopes it
does not make me uncomfortable I tell him
that it does not that I am flattered he say
she felt that I should know before he leaves and
asks if he can have a kiss goodbye I
lean into him and kiss him full upon the
mouth the kiss is soft and tender with
just a hint of passion hidden
in the edges near the taste of mandarin oranges 
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