Thursday, April 19, 2007

NaPoWriMo 18

After Sex

This I have worn like a dress
with black fringe at the hem
cascading over my thighs
whenever I move.

Whenever I can,
I go back to the hum of it.
Nothing’s more delightful
than all that is unspoken in me.
Such music always lingers,
yet I float dumbstruck
above the dogwoods
and the buildings
who must find them
irresistible.

Today, I am a map
that can’t be folded,
an umbrella opening wide
at every opportunity.
So it rises in me,
this secret I’m dying to tell you
but simply don’t have the words.

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