natasha

she finds me
on a dating site.
she's from russia
and sends me photos
of herself in a dress,
in a long coat,
in shorts and a
sleeveless blouse,
and then finally
with nothing on.
she's young, she's
lean and blonde
and beautiful. she
was raised on a farm
milking cows
in the ukraine. she
tells me that her skin
is like butter,
and not the hard
stick butter either,
but the kind in a
little tub
that's always soft.
she says that she's
in love with me.
that she has told
her family about me,
and that they are all
so happy for the both
of us. she sends me
a photo of her
passport and tells
me when she will be
arriving. she is all
packed, her family
is driving her
through the cold
wind swept fields
and snow of russia
to the airport. she
only needs one thing
and then she will be
mine and we will live
happily ever after
despite our thirty
five years in age
difference. she only
needs nine hundred and
eighty five dollars
sent electronically
to her bank account
in moscow. i am so
conflicted standing
here at the bank waiting
for the doors to open.