A Girl Parts the Clouds

She slid gently—a modest incline,

A misused portion of self—a spine,

A patina, attractive or maybe it’s

Just how wide she opened her eyes.

 

A soupçon of sky,

Alight.

A fall. My

World moved.

Clouds paint faces.

A sullen shape.

A blender of words, mixing

Intentions.

She makes verses

Lucid; she inquires after love.

 

A bellowing we call night.

A cloud, she makes way,

She parts lips, in the rackets,

A striking thought emerges,

Where girls come apart;

The edge of a nerve flayed

As the sun cuts clouds

At the heart.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s