Treasure Island

Tyler Wilcox


Dusk (M.M.)


The way
Her laughter
Flowed through her hair
Reminded me of water.

On sheets of royal violet
Sheets belonging to cherubim
Sheets of longing agony
Like a princess and a pauper
She rocks and rolls,
A show of boat shaking bravado.

My sweet Celeste,
Waxing
And
Waning
In holy lunar madness
One month, up and down
That's all you get

Minute hands crept
Like spiders suspended
In their web-weaving motions
Crawling precise over the
Curves of tables and
My hips downward rotation

Submitted: Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, August 14, 2013

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