Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Surfeited


Morning found me
in a round of alarms
each softer than the last
with gray

light through window-
pain, cloud trails white
as jasmine petals
tucked behind

ear and smile. Form
rising; flesh warmed in
cotton given no hope
             of imitating
                  previous nor
                      replicating
                            the future.



Aleathia Drehmer 2009

Published by Counterexample Poetics 12/09

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