Dec 12, 2009 02:12
she took off her night-gown amain
(true painters know such rapture)
threw aside on the green food ungracious threads
(each minute deserves its own thought
she thought)
her spreadeagled patch
under azure of sky scented with
jasmine and a little more coffee
behind her oath
like a shadow of her back
the blind path
snaked
bleeding
poesy