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ePaper created 2013-10-09, 06:36:00 | version 1.25.20
31 Kerchief As with all other brands of decline No one meal tasted ever again Never the same hand on the banister Face lifted to the light on a fork of lyrics The window glows with it awake or asleep Gusts toss the kerchief of faith like a demand for immodesty written on tree bed sodden with her perfume Presume that what rises is pride Overlapping drapes of facetious questions She cuts through with words for you At her disposal the blank envelope falls from a pocket Hidden by breasts a key swings Full extension hand plucks from institutional floor unsoiled unsealed packet that proves who she is