The afternoon reflected off the fur
of animals. The pasture has a prosody
of its own, the lazy bayou's contour
frames the light. I'm reminded of her body
near the window, of the sweet and sour
taste of her skin. Mysterious ecstasies
wander in the grass and I see the quick
bugs go from stem to stem. The sky has washed
its color over the world, celestial music
rains from the round clouds. She had to blush
when I spoke her name and the bold lipstick
was everywhere. I saw her body in a flash
of light from a god, a word about the clouds
explaining something and remembered her fur.
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