ABOUT A WOMAN TOO WILD TO TOUCH


A red whorl of skittery, glittering voltage;
a wild silver undulant wobble silking
through air. Her eyes move
like wild ponies, tremble like salt shakers
on a thunder rumbled table.
She is a fever raging in that raw nerve
between Light and the bone.
I think her feelings
are as nude as skinned grapes.
How does she survive?

She is flat in an oven
basting in butter.
She rolls her skin over.
She is eating flies.

Advertisements

About Blake Steele

I am a poet, writer, workshop leader, recording artist... half monk, half pirate, passionate for Life and Love to triumph in the world. I'm American by birth, but am living in Sweden for a while: writing, growing, deepening with amazing, open-hearted people, as well as developing Wild Words Creative Writing Classes and Wild Souls Workshops around the world.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s