I saw the mirror
all my sensual needs
form illusions around me like
a caring friend.
Guilt and solitude
made my bedroom huge.
You appear at night
both dead and alive
leaning toward me like marbled
quarried madness.
I am vulnerable at your
hands as you are poured
out into flames that leap
from a fragrant garden of women
of wives, two cruel snakes.
I am a hot furrow
suddenly, insane.
D.Claudia Ash
Muse6165@copyright.com
Posted by poetry/muse6165
at 9:52 PM EST
Updated: Monday, 01/03/2005 9:13 PM EST
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Updated: Monday, 01/03/2005 9:13 PM EST
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