Above, dusky clouds close in
like breathless vultures at high noon,
a sea breeze gone astray
soon follows suite, bending down
to tousle the folds
of a lone riders velvet skirt.
...chestnut tendrils of
apricot scented hair flow;
shadows chant for love...
A mind delicately in tune surveys this
desert scene through borrowed copper eyes.
In animosity the woman and observer
become one, their souls perceiving
each others curtained image.
...shadows chant for love
among haggard rose bushes;
priests bless virgin young...
From the cinders of once fertile life
she rises like a crowned goddess
before a painted Greek dawn,
her ominous glare turning to strip away
the mask of this omniscient one,
strip away the cryptic divinity
and crooked righteousness.
...priests bless virgin young
with candid ascendancy;
the devil's corner...
Acid pollen etches the omitted past
of women on her supple skin,
every tarnished smile seeking
to cremate her arcane heart.
Crows stoop to kiss the ground
she treads upon, as she wanders alone,
it is the price of knowledge
that cloaks every exit
in unfathomable joy, too human
for her to entertain.
...the devil's corner
channels imitated faith;
dusky clouds close in...
On distressed hands and knees the woman
has climbed this desert's mortal citadel,
turning she grants her perpetual past
a last glance through blood-shot, copper eyes.
From every direction wayward footsteps
lead to this meeting of rock and cloud,
of immortal and mortal.
...of this life I plead,
forgive me my trespasses;
I'm only woman...
3 days ago