You may shed a sound or light
as of radiation into ellipsis
of subterfuge and watchful eyes.
Then your signal registers semiotics
that extends an innuendo, a graffiti
of thighs, breasts and buttocks splayed
on a drooling tongue.
A revolting virgin spring who
takes offence at a sprangled thorax
would corrode on perverted comedies:
‘Excuse me sir,
Your casuistry extends a body.
But sir, how does an imagination
so fragile clamp Marvell in
echoes of fiction or Hysterical
Literatures without orgasm?
Everything colourful is not lost
in sfumato of the chameleon.
Even cuckolds understand the
logic of a necessarily lost tendril
among a harem of wish.
No comments:
Post a Comment