Friday, October 06, 2006

...Are we Human Starfish?


Starfish

The bed, a profundity, probed by toes

Immeasurable in grades of softness

Since toe tips lack subtlety

Of form; texture.


I lie indistinct as the lurk of Ophelia’s father

In wait - a lady in waiting

Spread-eagled for my Othello

Tell Iago I lie in the arms of Morpheus

If it should hasten him to my bed


Where, displayed

By retreating surf, the duvet

Uncovers my five-pronged

Opulence.


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