Monday, March 29, 2010

Loving


After Denise Levertov


The heat in baring skin

so white it seems

each summer the first summer.


The breath lifting, the tongue

shivering at the touch

each day the first day.


His bright eyes, color-blind

so deceived so

easy to fool, dreamily


move along my body

toe to brow. I hide

my blue eyes inside the darkness.

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