I watch the harried blonde
Searching her car,
Opening the trunk,
Closing, getting in her *****
91 Lebaron, missing a hubcap
She drives around the corner,
Turns back down the street,
Stops, opens her door,
All legs and ***,
Slower this time.
I'm drawn to
Her pale skin,
The curve of leg,
I'm a well worn soldier,
Looking in the heart
Of darkness, Or I'm a poet
Caught up in lust.
Either way, I look up
The lane for the harried blonde with the curve
Of leg. I breath in the moment,the time invisible,
The movement of dust
Lifts sunlight through the air,
Through the cheap window,
The bowed frame,
Yet it danced around her
Like sun's in their brilliance,
And she was lit,
And I was red, and dust
Filled the space with light,
Swirling and blue,
Shimmering and red,
And I loved her essence,
Blue smoke,
Blue flame,
Sun blazing,
Motes and darkness
Filled with light,
Blue dust all around her.