nguyen1021

little pig does poetry
2003-04-03 05:27:10 (UTC)

Amira's Last Gift

The shirt is booze over rocks
skin crumbling under
harshness of over-dried fabric
worn twice times too many.
But it rubs his chest
and arms, the way her hair
cascaded and spread
over his hard, brown landscape.
Mother Erth now cradles her,
leaving him to surrender
under the shirt that gloves
with rough sensation.