Thursday, January 31, 2013

Nap



Music filled streets,
cloudy skies, chicken soup –
blended in a cup.

The night is approaching my eyelids
at mid-day.
Sovereign stars of the night
gather and swirl in my chest,
pulling my spine through an infinite space
where dreams are born,
and I pull them through the gateway
into this sodden world
where all dreams belong!





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Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Pour Homme

Describe.
The stillness ...
The coolish morning in the winter
smells like spring but
it's not quite here yet.

I dissolve into latte, and
don't wish to look back
under the night-sheets where
under raw flesh remains
the invisible woman.


Lavender breath, vanilla skin
marinated in Irish cream
and ... nuts.


Sometimes, I want to be a motorcycle -
polished and loved,
fixed and reassembled
down to the last screw ... but

I'm 
only 
a woman.



Published also by POETS' BASEMENT 





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