A woman wondering how they came to be lying
In upholstered dirt, under the eyes of a red-crowned crane,
The heart-shaped lily pads of a leapfrog size
All set in a wilderness of wet, of a diminutive size—
With its prim borders and luminous crescent moon;
The consistent currents, the fashionable koi fish
Flattened to rice paper in a tapestry of lanterns, flames
Bright against a stubborn wind— couched clouds persistent
With a shower. She, dreaming of her lover in a water-elved boudoir;
Petaled flowers floating round the bed, marveling numbered in
Shades of red, possessed by their glowing hearts,
Drowsed by their sexuality— the liquor of indulgence.
The sheets grow heavy, three days, three nights;
Her body as pure as Japanese paper, delicate as
Moonlight, glowing and coming and going.
A virgin attended by roses— he left. Betrayed her
As one betrays the world; infinitely beaten, infinitely hurt.
Copyright © 08/12/18 lance sheridan®