THE INVENTION OF RAIN
She was there
A very long time
Until it finally
Came to her.
When the noise faded
She dusted the place
Pulled oceans
Out of rock
And cooled her heels
In cyanic water.
Then one day
She danced
And the skies
Opened.
THE ELEMENT OF FLESH
Fingers
Until
Space
Echoes
Leaned
Reached
Spilled
Under
Pressing
Lips melting
Flooded
A long moment
Gone
Over the edge.
PORTRAIT OF A WOMAN ON RUE TOULOUSE
Purple saxophone
Loose ends of the moon
Water rising
In cobalt and petroleum
I paint you nude tonight
In oak and neon gold
Spanish moss
Between your legs
The trace of lilac on your lips
Chocolate of your breasts
Ochre and sienna of your skin
Your carmine tongue
Broken glass and rain
On Rue Toulouse.
