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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