A New Art

October 28, 2008

 

Fingers trace the edges of her smooth skin

above that fissure where pleasures moan

and rivers surge,

 

Thought floats like a feather

in the dimness

of the room,

 

She shifts and uncovers her body

The chill hits her like an iceberg.

 

Legs entangled between sheets

Breathing vaporises into mist
Sleep overcomes.