Journey to Your Deepest Self

Francesca

 

Her wild, velvet need
is  a smile, like a naked question
Her deep, feline dance
makes his fever flower open;
wakes the secret prisoner
celebrating the delicious lie
of cool, liquid why on why.

Shake off the question
or
surround vast eternity
like a woman
pulling and sucking.
Give God some of your lip.
Laugh icily,
growl, crap, kiss, bleed.

The yesterday-you is over
Eat cake and pie then listen:
Warm, caramel trust
can squirm in here.
Embrace this blind child
Say yes to her desire,
perfuming the morning
with your ocean voice
and remember.

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4 Responses to “Francesca”

  1. Eric idarius says:

    Yikes!

  2. John says:

    My fever flower has been touched, Kathleen. And now with my morning perfumed, all I can say is—thank you, for the chilling and delicious ride on the edge of my nerves!

  3. Kathleen says:

    Awww! Thank you Betty. I can feel your love!

  4. Kathleen says:

    Thank you John, for receiving Francesca.

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