Morning

Her coral revolver's mouth drawing me like a gleaming well. Peret

............................................................................................

~ She shivers into me. Her lips are here and there too.
Along the rim of my cup this lover sips my sweet tea.
And I keep her, held like this, for a forthnight of prayer.
I shall be the first to hear her poems. Her small mouth is
valiant. On her knees she's a princess searching for a
lost kingdom, blindfolded, her wrists gently tied with the
same slice of antique lace covering her luminous eyes.

the night frames

her face lost in my linen hair

blindness

Maria