Thursday, April 8, 2010

St Walter of Pontoise (patron of prisoners, wine makers, invoked against job related stress)


leave it to my clumsy hands

to be here with a body lost


misplaced elbows, locks of

tightly wound russet curls,

the shadow of a cheek.


how can I talk the world

into getting into the wide

backseat of my mint Buick


when I have no hands

to linger behind her ears?


unhook the smallest of clasps?


how will I ever know

her soft inner thighs

like violets?


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