I recite my favorite poem
and dream of a remedy for these
fantasies that keep me up at night
occupied in the twilight of dawn
until I rise and go to you
Not in a moist garden
lush with the heady scent of jasmine
my soles licked by dew
my ankles tickled by the wet lace
of my gauzy nightgown
No I suffer you in a gray cubicle
in the basement of a stark white building
and stare into your eyes
the color of the sea on an October morning
No comments:
Post a Comment