Tuesday, October 16, 2007

There was a red moon hanging in a blue-black sky.

A golden coin rolling on the velvet sheets.

She sang her songs on the missionary's roof.

In soft, supple tones, shining sweetly like the sea.

Bathing naked in the red lunar light.

Arms tied, hair pulled, legs spread.

On the missionary's roof.


The walls weep milk from tiny roving eyes.

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