Only

I can only think about the coldness
Of the green water, how the initial
Shock makes the skin alive with purpose
How I demand to be alive.

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Michele (revision 100320101422)

I

Sat up on the plush, pillowed chair

Crossed milky legs, flattened hair,

            and feels it bright to giggle and

            arch her slender bow.

II

I stop despite, to belly on reflection

Peering up from the gleam eye of perfection

            blood impress & blood impressing, blood

            to blood to time compressing.

III

You who go mourned

Should not a man look to be forgiven

hope

falls

Should not a man protest for dying only once

But living so many lives for bunker and bunce?