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| 'Dans le Lit, le Baiser' Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec |
agents of the lords
plucked less for divinity potential
than they were for disposable renew-ability
this species couldn't be wiped clean they say
in the far flung corners of said universe
though those in the know, red phone booths
to tesla toothed blue by you, doppler crew too
waning wax waving banners saying
to what astronauts what aquanauts your parents were
what they stole into you with, science and the slid shiver spine
fish tine trident and we lent ourselves limb-ed sacrifice
told ourselves sacred would suffice
until we were mere attractions
and candy chews
in a nice bowl
near the house keys
and the places where
we would ease off our shoes
for awhile
she smelled of vanilla and other spice tones
there was this hint of the kitchen
a witch in no uncertain terms
the terns perched outside
waiting for long route assignment
the crows thickly hid
while the sun ate into her western hem too
my hands
find my hands
in my dreams
she said
i keep finding her
her lips instead
EJR ©
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