she thinks I am not listening,
her breath upon my neck,
so she pitches me 'zines:
ALLURE, allure me?
she lures me to beaches:
soft amber sand
settles in valleys
between toes and heels;
tanned images dance;
a lounging goddess shimmers ~
ebony strands weave lace,
pattern after pattern,
into a creamy satin gown;
sapphire laps flames
from her eyes to mine,
mesmerized.
the caption reads:
*only the finest *** comes from Puerto Rico*.
Nov 18, 2010
Nov 18, 2010 at 9:39 PM UTC
she thinks I am not listening,
her breath upon my neck,
so she pitches me 'zines:
ALLURE, allure me?
she lures me to beaches:
soft amber sand
settles in valleys
between toes and heels;
tanned images dance;
a lounging goddess shimmers ~
ebony strands weave lace,
pattern after pattern,
into a creamy satin gown;
sapphire laps flames
from her eyes to mine,
mesmerized.
the caption reads:
*only the finest *** comes from Puerto Rico*.
© 1996, Iona Nerissa
All poetry under the names Lori Carlson or Iona Nerissa are the sole property of Lori Carlson.
Please seek permission before using any of my writings.
~Lori Carlson~
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