Where

the gasoline night

strips the light

bare
your breasts

have gathered

like the clouds

of a storm,
they swell

and then collapse.
There

my fingers, taken,

glide
and I can

smell
the scent

of freshly cut

grass.
They swell

and then

collapse,
as I drink

their rain.
Their rain,

as it falls,

away soothes
the pain

and a day’s

bruises.
Where

the gasonline night

strips the light

bare.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_______________

Photo: Robert LONGO, “Untitled (Angel)” 2009