I like to think of myself as a foot fancier,
a fetisher without the kinky connotations.
There are two types of feet: yours,
fleshy and firm, with evenly spaced toes
and what I have, skin-covered bones,
random toes, spurs on the outsides and heels,
a gift from my dad
about whom my mother said,
"If I had seen his feet before we were married,
it wasn't going to happen."
Fortunately, you are a leg fancier,
and my foot limitations are somewhat offset
by my muscular legs which ended
in tennis shoes when we first met. In a rash
of good fortune, it worked out that for you
to place your legs against my legs
I got to place my feet against your feet,
and here we are dancing barefoot on the beach,
your feet on mine as the metronomed tide advances,
my feet slowly melting into the sand.
(First published in Songs of Eretz (Love Edition) - 2021)