Axiom
Skin burnished to a shade
Of light mocha, the color of muddied hay,
The curve of a human body –
A woman’s hips swelling out
As her shadow falls against a wall - just this
Causes you to turn and look before thought Of beauty or hunger arises, Just as the sight of an upright cello, with its ribs Of wood and wire, brings To the mind’s ear, music, perhaps Bach’s.
Desire is hidden in everything, So is love.
My Poems
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