she is radiant,
untamed, a wicked, wanton woman.
shadowed by the cratered moon, she tastes of
mad seas and water lilies,
grinning, lips wide with
wild teeth, at the shivering night.
she and i are a nest of mad kisses,
hell-red and fire-breathing, bleeding
blue flowers and sticky ink.
the curves of her back
are a dream of green and bronze
and yet i care for nothing at all.
watched by the pale eyes of panthers
stalking us in the night.
slowly she turns and i let the wind carry me away;
we angle our faces
toward the rushing horizon,
embroidered with tiny trees
and dotted with ramshackle old houses
and the dawn has never been so heartbreaking.