Like lying in a still small pool of water.
Ice water, the veneer of me
pulled back and the flesh
my breasts and stomach
heart and entrails
placed like lapis lazuli upon
the tinder block.
Then
turn, turn, turn;
the buff and shine making
the day dip deeper into me.
The blade curve rounding
thoughts out, 'till they spring
a gleam, a glamour
I can wear to see you;
if it fits.
The rigging of my knuckles, long bones
fingers and rings
at your knotty neck:
whispering this.
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