Nov 132013
 
I was a maiden first.
Of crinoline
And electric green,
My gown.

Then you came,
Choice monsieur,
With red eyes
And heavy hands.

The days broke open
Like glass
Like cymbals
Like mirrors crashed.

The days broke open.
Like summer rolled over on his back,
Open-mouthed with sleep,
You came.

In the hay, in the day,
Heavily, heavily.

Such hands, monsieur.
And my gown
Felt velvet,
Grew red.

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