That Black Dress (draft)

That black dress
made your breasts
penitent magnolias

(mouths praying)

and your hips curved
wide like the sea where
dolphins are born,

the zipper against
your back- an ingress
to secret roads

(few men have traveled)

the waist, tight as
throat when the eye
sees far-too fragile things

(imagine a hand
around a small bird)

the skirt, the sky
within which lies
burning clouds at sunset

(God's fiery face)

when you take it off-
moon's gold flesh against
the dark cloth of night.

No comments: