Of the body, grammatically (in)correct
meek, she lies, like an adverb of skin.
As if the blood weren’t, more -
far more – than simply wild, a red adjective;
red, like the sea.
As if the sea wouldn’t part, a noun, for the passage
of the chosen ones, and wouldn’t close, like a pronoun
indefinite, invariable, over all the others.
As if between the wave and the pores
there weren’t, salty and prepositional, a
locution – unavoidable, like a contraction.
Like the tide, that doesn’t depend on wanting
but on the moon; the moon –
Transitive, like a verb making itself
meekly impersonal when it falls
like the night upon her;
And she falls asleep, in the red -
perchance – of a naked, wakeful adverb;
that lies wildly, dressed of skin.
-- © 2008 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*®