She
hides tonight in the frosted mist,
In
the half-shaped curves of ice and light.
She
hides in the damp-petaled leaves
That
swoon from sun-bitten trees.
In
the sky's drenched-cotton folds
And
in the crispness of the grasses.
She
hides tonight in halogen hallways
In
rose-light behind dirtied curtains.
In
the crack and beat of guilt-quick footsteps.
She
hides in the breeze upon the spine,
In
the dying sound of lovers' hate
And
the stomach's ulcerous heat.
She
hides in the rain-pearled webs
In
the rotted squeak of wood-worm planks.
She
hides in the bottle-necked, pineal rush,
In
the mucus spice upon your lips.
She
hides in the spider's liquid womb,
In
her black-silk spawn about to burst.
No comments:
Post a Comment