| who wanted me. Someone who felt like "home." For all the good reasons | ||
| Daniel handed me a tisane of rose hips and lemon grass. Pink glass rained over the floor. The wind in my hair, To be baptised in white |
Daniel gripped the white casting net in his teeth; part of it wrapped around his arms, making him look entrapped. The white web over his black skin: a topographic map of his body's terrain. His bald, perspiring head bent intently forward: |
never a more beautiful Neptune.
|
| The power of words, especially in the shoul- ders. The sun, polish- ing them. To shudder in pain or desire would cost him; I wept. |
To long for parakeets I held onto the window |
planted on the running board, wind in my hair.
|
|
or the bad? Home, where one swims naked in salty green seas. Eats, eats, loves, is loved. Or, where silence dis- | ||
| | back | random | forward | |