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Onoma Sep 2021
even when a kitchen's

light switch

is stroked shut--

like a piano key

sleekly

greased with soul

food.

the sun stays on...

as the moon does

her thing.

impeccably undressed.

spying on her unknown

creatures.
Onoma Sep 2021
one leaf has

to fall first,

atop a flower

like a petrified

fist.

performing an

austerity in

Mother India.

a damaru in Shiva's

hand.
Onoma Sep 2021
too many lions

are crying--with their

swollen ******* paws

resting on dusts dyed

blond.

as if poised at both sides

of a public library staircase.

retarding the suns that

crash on their heads.

with long-lived licks to

those paws.

rayed manes combed

through by granulation,

held in place by splashes

of blood.
Onoma Aug 2021
still life

of a tangerine...

each pore a

way to look at

her.

demure with

unrivaled essence.

sweet enough

for starvation,

dizzy with the

thought of her

layers peeled

back.
Onoma Aug 2021
save the date

of The Cross...

on your refrigerator.

say you can attend

the marriage of

direction.

save the date.
Onoma Aug 2021
a poem is a singled

out entity.

leaving no trace.

a phosphorescent

image greater

than the sun.
Onoma Aug 2021
when picking

meets

an unfurled

petal,

fingers unhand

themselves.

in such a way--

that a mutual

scent

remains with

every petal

come winter.

over winter.
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