Treasure Island

Graveyard Of Little Muses

(7 march 1988)

Dear November,


First of all
I must undress you of all clothes
for you to really feel, my poem.

It's not merely enough to read the words,
that sailed from my pen to paper,
for words cannot warm the skin
as a kiss does.

Surely you understand this,
better than any woman that I gave flowers
because I loved.

But I see you're not undressing,
though my verses are nude,
so,
go away, and stray
in someone else's poem,
not in mine.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, October 08, 2013

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