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.

we are
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.