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.


No comments:

Post a Comment