her nipples ready for war
beneath the fieried sky
it purrs cackle of mating crows like sunlit orchard cauldrons
the rounded bellies of hills bloodened yellow like once oranges
pry loose the bluey autumn push deep into themselves
innocent bird song and meadow
drip down curves gushing her hands slide along
slow the unwilling willing one she dreams unable to resist dissolves
her legs press like music
a butterfly flutter is born up indigenous always a
fury of planets is rapture, for the bondage of math is illusion
there are gentle airs the mountains keep
I have held my arms round heat of ovens felt the rocks of doused campfires
where fledglings find first flight just as ground hums up
stopped by the warmed stones that throw outward bound dreams, stone
the starry dots of night have gazed monkishlike upon ––
there is only the morning star in a mirror
you laugh, dancer, your skirt, your accordion, its insinuations,
your hips! dance with me, also, please.