Current
Fibers,
flesh. Electricity
transudes through a
sigh.
Sun-bordered clouds migrate from
your eyes to my core:
swooshing of curtains, temples
like drums.
Hypnotic pulsations mark lines
between dreams
and life, as
time contracts in us.
And with the last loud blink
of a light bulb,
the shadows withdraw,
and kaleidoscopes convulse.
Copyright © 2005 Anna Piutti