Return to: Larry Kimmel - Collected Poems Online |
New PropertyScent of hot grasses. The sun a coin of molten electrum. In a white dress of thin muslin, her areolae bloom dark as the plums warm from the tree. With a thirst like this there's no help for it. You thieve and wipe your chin, laughing at the myth of ownership.wicked pretty with eyes the blue of burning alcohol eyes to fuck a heart __________________ Copyright © 2005 by Larry Kimmel