His desire spread evenly
tendering the arc of each leg
the flimsy feel to silk paper
a woman stitched sides
tattooed chronicles twine
Cane lovingly tracing her tribal Ankh
kissing the faded scar upon the arm
guiding hands to Pandora box
toweling aqueous droplets
African Lemongrass roaming over both
bodies washed together
each one kneading human fields full of glory
awaken buried stories
told on these wishful moments
readings of Memnon
reacting Maul's running thru Barbados hills
caught child feet slipping weeds
over deep ditches
the scared stumbling into Rastafari camp
"dem damn Yankee kids get them butts ome. . ."
elder's traditional tale of the Goblin
our howl pitch poignant
in the hour of madness
lovers rapture maneuvers
perdure fingering silk souls
natural Cane a natural thing
© 2011 Lepadah
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