A FREE-VERSE POEM
Your cool, locust touch, the green gnarled
Hand of your eyes, your gem
The pulchritudinous, dude, your mind
The insect vibrations of words
Word on your hands, your toes,
Flying over the marshlands,
On the deepest yearning,
You’re severed from me, from...
Your face was never like mine.
Sabotaged by the dreary, the dust
On your sacrifice, you’re carved
Apart and laid out on the body
Of your Cane, your bones.
On the body of gentle Love!
✴✴✴
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