Arrive
from the walls
charcoal sketches
creme
imported
aged
a few

breathing french doors
terra cotta shades
Culture
beneath bareness
at my feet
stone and moss
pretend
in the desert

Remain this hour
if you could
from under
canopy harbors,
pale eyes
chant
strain
shape as speech carries
I only watch...
frequent exhales
creases of perception
closing in,
comb laughter
into tears
from legs across
accomplice or hostage
catches
sound
images
paints
within you

01/20/2002

Posted on 01/20/2002
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