Monday, June 7, 2010

DOOR-BELL



At moments inappropriate
You ring
My feet
Assemble my body
Drag me to the door
Your shrill voice
My long hand
On my chest
Eyes closed
Mind pictures
Scent from a mile
The color of her dress
Curves of her neck
Yellow skin
Gold hair
Angle of face
And extent of her smile…

My long hand
On the door knob
My heart-train
Nostrils smoke
Eyes opened
Mind summons
A white sheet
Wraps her scent,
Dress, neck, face
And her smile
Packed
Sent
To a station unknown
Not to return
Until your next call
Next ring
Next turmoil…
My door-bell.

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