Waist deep in Gods
I fell to my knees
a palpitating heart
my veins were anxious
the sky was deserted
on my porch
a hand
a waste
a peep
a glob of sunlight
it was a soundless morning
a concrete concaved morning
subtle as your hair
alive like the seething foam
on lips tired
my memory flew like a dove
off your window white
an apple green
was left with a fresh wound
on your pillow
Olympus was your cheeks
constipated wind was my drink
and we were raw on our beds
roughly drawn
