Your ears

Your ears,
floppy and oversized,
are the most human part
of an otherwise perfect
anatomy.
The boys howl after you,
and slobbering
through rancid streets
beg for you
to pat them.
Alabaster flesh
with goblets
of joy
on your
heaving
chest,
your cherry
lips
and pulpy
fruit
intoxicating,
but your ears,
shaped with exaggerated
Picasso curves,
draw me:
I know
they absorb
an otherworldly
octave:
I know
they can
hear
me.