flasher with brown coat
constructed by words,
undoes strap of leather punctuations
revealing nude exclamations of
...
sometimes I wonder if maybe
I don't even have any
that the tiny clusters of supple skin
are just my bones
...
Blossom
fourteen lilies
lick the condensation
of sweat and
lack of rest
existing
between her thighs
all cleaned up,
she is ready for
one more poem