An innocent looking soulDraped with an ethereal gownConfident strides across the patioWith Eve’s revengeCrisp air – like the first bite of a green appleObscured; knowing her nectar to be my cure I watch her bosom swellIt’s not objectivizationFor I worship herRefreshed in wavesThis transparent Victorian hypocrisyKnowing all that ails& an unseen wound Yet morning crestsPaleContinue reading “An Innocent Looking Soul”
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A Naked Woman Upon The Figurehead
A naked woman upon the figureheadStanding proud in the breezeCalling to the Sirens & wenchesKnowing the truth of these seasHer beauty remaining firm & intactThe ship around her orange with rustThe sailors with splinters in their palmsFor she has a wooden bust
