The Fight, The Fall

I fought back with hopeless desperation

I fell

            it was a dream fall

my body languid and fastidious

The floor became impatient

No Name Woman

Among the villagers,

clothes and good clothes.

They wore good clothes.

A woman combing her hair

hexes beginnings

Women looked like

great sea snails –

A bent back;

            Goddesses and Warriors

A marvelous freeing of beauty, lover

            she cursed     herself

Imminent lover,

looked at her

            looked.

They left, fearful

like a field of nesting birds,

startled and caught

Their first reason for

leaving,

            Final reason for

                        leaving

Was the never-said

Please Touch Gently

Touchez doucement s’il vous plaît

Pastel rind & citrus clouds

Gold guild my dreams like Gustav Klimt

Preserve the clippings from the

lemon tree

Set the leaves upon your mattress

dive in enveloped by yellow

            Outlaw the crimson, the

            pumping, the fighting

Dew drips from petal

and lands in wide open mouth, on

pink tongue

It tastes sweet

It tastes of nothing