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She Opened Her Legs... To Let The Light In
She opened her legs to let the light in.
She opened her lips like budding tulip,
in the spring awakening, addled with pollen
We made the bed and tuned the radio.
The summer sun was overhead
and the radio played brocade.
By the autumn hour she would be with the wind
and the leaves floated past me as dying embers
looking for peace.
The air was dry when winter came she was everywhere, she was not here
I felt numb, my lips had cracked, I prepared mexican but couldn't get a light.
And she returned yet her youth revitalized
me but it was too late My guts were frozen,
and I took the freight train back home to live
poem
by
Jerome Moore
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