Heavy perfume billows from the night bushes
each bloom breathing differently
removed of clothes
sun and visibility
heat and noise
exposed and raw they contract like sleeping women
or children
or men stripped of their conscious guilt
they whisper into you in every tongue of love and comfort
and each wine-soaked petal is a finger longing
for a hand
Grandiloquent. For ever panting and for ever young.
Email:
archrisman@gmail.com
J’aime votre art. C’est votre existence et la fin du mien.
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