Read also the page About Still Life.
Shy as a
breeze a
caress flighty
touches
skin.
A heart
pumps lust
flooding
sheets.
Shamming
dizziness
molds a
thigh
into an
unwanted shape.
A will
owns
an aim as
obsessive drilling.
It is the
chemistry
between flesh
and bones
merging.
A hair,
dark, is
left
on the cushion
after the
fall.
One color
red
splashes
out of
the
everlasting
sepia pubes'
violent
beauty.
With one
look
at, in, on,
over,
up, under
and
behind the
bed
the versed
veteran
value's the
Still Life.
No comments:
Post a Comment