his dappled eye
dreams
in a dappled day.
my boy
plucks me from
the tree and offers a synthetic smile:
does he dream
under dappled light
with a dappled eye blinking,
of my shining flesh glazed
as the knife digs deep; does he cut
the sun like a lemon and rip
the moon's shell like the peach's down --
undress unveil the fruit
from the tree, carry me
and polish my sunny teeth.
will he take a bite
from my cherry eyes,
spit the stones like
he can't deny --
or leave me hanging
in the dark sunlight
when my tongue is just not
sweet enough --
my boy
dreams in the dappled day
of what i cannot say,
those silver spoon orbs
gleaming.
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YOU ARE READING
THE OCEAN
Poésie'In the old days at home the Neverland had always begun to look a little dark and threatening by bedtime. Then unexplored patches arose in it and spread, black shadows moved about in them, the roar of the beasts of prey was quite different now, and...
