Sunday, September 12, 2010

Field of Passion



Field of Passion

His spell casts the morning
hummingbirds into a frenzy.
Witches wombs swelled; they beat their thighs
to lure the warlocks with the sway
of their silhouette.

Then throw our bodies
on the ground, spread legs
and raise their hips to welcome
Dancer on the Moon.

Hours passed, the opaque sipped
the grape juice. Lunatic constellations
spied their movements. They hung on 
to yellow memories of autumn.

You’ll find me in your garden
blossoming among the sleepy tamarind, 
covered in apple bliss.

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