"The thought of your body breaks me."
More Perihelion:
Bob Sward's Writer's Friendship Series
Texarkana
Then the gun men come and then
Clutching the Book of Ruin
From the barn I could see the star
In the end, there was nothing
Just watch as an ocean of bloodhounds
The one in blond fox
In his clean, white hands.
Of his horse as it galloped toward us.
We could do.
Flood down the side of the mountain.
_______________________________________________________________ Ariadne, Waiting
This is how I was found.
Foxed under in nothing, strewn bare in cinquefoil,
Torn loose of the earth, chanting,
The thought of your body breaks me.
Disquieted child, I fall under spells.
Soon, I will receive you, lie with you,
Mend your salt-stung hands.
When the ocean, envious of your leaving,
Moans to the boats and anchors,
We will dream the coming armada,
A covey of dark birds, the deep asunder--
_______________________________________________________________