Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Dancing with Leah

Swells rise west of this cradle.
Trains moan the whole night through.

I remember you, Leah, 
at Homecoming dance.
Though too young,
barely ten, fortune
favored me with
an older brother.

I asked for your hand.
You smiled sweet as fragrance
and took mine.
Nestled in your bosom
                                               (crush of cloth and tit-flesh
                                                I was too young to threaten)
I swayed overcome by fullness.

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