Anyway, I/K poetry for ya:
Unknot your obi,
let the soft silk flutter down
and coil at your feet,
a silent shimmer of cloth
to signal our beginning.
Let my hand slide then
under the soft silken cloth
over the warm silk
your soft and delicate skin
richer than the kimono.
Let me ease it back
over your shoulder, soft, white,
gilded by lamplight,
revealing for me only
the treasure hidden within.
Will you step away
from its soft caressing fall
hands searching to find
the tie to my suikan,
the knot on my red obi?
And, as a bonus, a Tanka for today:
I look this morning --
the mountain has disappeared
behind a gray veil.
The coy mountain is dressing,
donning her finest white.
Gray and wet day. I will be spending a lot of today in hot water. Literally.