Puttanesca

Every Sunday we gathered

at a coffeehouse

on the Reeperbahn.

We were very

young, and full

of appetite.

She could not have been more than

twenty-two, and easily the most

beautiful woman I had ever seen.

I wanted to fall down on my

knees and declare my undying

devotion to her, there and then.

The door was ajar, and

on the threshold stood

a man in a dark cloak.

One of her hands went down

between her legs and she

began to rub herself there.