You say I'm a tad peculiar like a French phrase
The one for the belated wit of the
staircase
The one for a look shared by two
people
Who expect the other to initiate
something
Some gesture you no doubt already tallied
In the incarnadine pearls spit by such a spindrift
Day as if you had at best only a talent
to factor
Poetry and naked storms O these
curly waves
Smell of your hair the updo-ocean cascading
Slender tendrils on the smooth shore of
your voice
How’s that for a metaphoric jig you could
Come waltz with me on this empty
beach
The grayness of the day all of a
sudden
Is blonde so what? this ain't no devil’s
dance
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