Delores Mireles 1907-1923

Delores Mireles 1907-1923 I gushed forth eight months after his death, My natural father, a rascal named Roscoe. My mother, next to me here, Shall remain unnamed and acquitted, Even in anonymous death, For she was not innocent, nor he, That brazen wolf who found his sniffing way, Through sneaky vines and groping flowers, Their brazen squealing passage to mad love, Of strange probing games in the dark, With eyelids closed in shuddering tempests. It was her delirious heart he seized, And her slithery soul too. And there, let it be known, He found an open gaping curtain, And Dianthus’ skin a quivering, Concealed through a sheer façade of silk, There, my mother’s priceless treasure room, And in the midst thereof, Her innermost well of warm moist yearnings, Her inner sanctum of curious desires, I emerged on a naked winter’s evening, Shivering in my mother’s room of ice!