II
In the plaited waters
wept
For flowing shimmers
dimmed
The heroine of looming
flute and flowered
limbs
Her preying mantis
eyes
and face shaped like a
bell
Hands painted on her
hands
two-fingered fragile
shells
Her sugar-spider
hair
Her hungry modest
smiles
Her appetite for
love
And flesh and cherries
wild
My Princess Pumpkin
Wise
My logic made of
lies
Her heart is in the
bone
Her tales are in my
cries













Comments
But that's a minor thing.
--
Dust collected and shadows multiplied; it is only a mirror.
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