Monday, 11 April 2011

The Savage


One savage regards another


And they converse a while


Her nose kiss


A drop of scent on my hand


Tip toeing finger tips whisper


But Tortoise Shells eye is roaming


A blink of naked movement


A slinky down to the flower bed


Tulip ballerina on the wall


Twitch of life in her jaws


She is stone, the rodents rubber-whip tail


A garden feral, the mood in her claw


The air is turning


And she has ribbons to make


Our eyes touch goodbye


Cobwebs unlace as I pass towards town


I swallow my odour


And lock my face for people


And I laugh as I feel


The points of my teeth


Like needles on my tongue.



2010



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