comely, maybe but not beautiful my features are as round as vowels and I carry the moon in my hips I am an unpolished beauty smooth pebbles resting at the bottom of a cold clear stream with an empty purse imagination my only currency
in this world I am a shrinking violet occasionally a rose february-white caught in your button-loop long-stemmed red roses stalk runways hollywood bombshells are bubbly as champagne and full of flesh and light
but *** sans love is still an empty bathtub whatever happened to pin-up girls long cigarette holders and muted photographs? I am distorted in the fish-eye view of the modern lens
in my fantasies I am no longer sand and loam I glow like a tall slim candle though I am often numb and dumb and my girls are as absent as long lost unicorns I am the bohemian princess
I travel through foreign lands clothed in exotic costume a jewelled headdress, and indian pyjamas coloured sapphire, turquoise and cayenne-red my feet are near bare and my hippie hair is a mass of blonde curls
I take a sojourn in southern california warm desert air soft against my skin I surf in the salty sea held buoyant by the waves a sunset stains the sky tangerine the palm trees black against the orange light click teasingly in the breeze
"In My Fantasies" can be found in my book "Blood for Honey", available at Lulu.com and Amazon.