What Little
I Know
Hortensia
Anderson
Not blue
until after death
maybe,
but salty wet
I dive in --
it is dark,
the moon shut out
by black curtains.
That's alright
--
I control the
uncontrollable:
our tidal waves
and rhythms.
At this
moment,
I know and I know
for a fact
that you are the
white of cream,
eyes and hair
some strange gold --
I have bodies
of water in the
fridge, they take
the curved shape of
glass, they effervesce
when opened,
somewhat like you --
if this
is a vice,
I may have gotten
a lot done at once --
You, love,
are more than a bit
bloated --
take these pills,
you'll pee it out
in the morning.
The
2River View, 3_2 (Winter 1999)
|