She’s running through the field
white blonde head on fire with blur.
.45 in her hand.
She fires at the man she chases,
moon coming up milky behind them
in the bird sky.
Exploding lead powder cracks the night.
She throws the gun into the lake
and overtakes him,
tackling him to the ground,
ravishing him,
mouth open and wet with lust,
coming into his hard-to-breathe lips.
He sucks her in
and relinquishes all control.
She goes down deep into his neck
and pulls at blood with her teeth.
She dances naked, gold idol
and spinning top,
delirious upside down reflection,
she into opposite turns,
an axe cage,
a romantic cylinder moving hungrily
through alleys,
crying in the dark…
she looks up into the rain,
and her cries turn to laughter,
welling up until all is silk splendor,
her teeth pockets of blood,
her eyes hormone pools
opening into new worlds,
torrents of blazing Spring.

copyright,  © 1989, 2007 Chris Desjardins pka Chris D.

composed circa 1976-77; originally published in DOUBLE SNAKE BOURBON