There, ancient Egypt in gauze of light
Turn your eyes sideways and stare
The sculptured lines of her body is art
And beneath that skin the slum of fear.
I met her coming back fromm the gathering
Her arms laden with unapplied substances
After the sweat of night stirred her scent
Relationships can awful instances
Shadowy aroma that does not relent
I remember that soft sweet gown of silk
It is only worm spit you know
The night still rises like a brown mist
From armpits and crevices of skin
The aroma drips with the curse of death
Foul an putrid, and the nile flows for this
Since balms have no use in the heat
Rancid with nights ambiguity of love
She is returning, and I must cuddle
And protect her putrifying insecurity
And smile to hide my own love
The thing drives me like dunes to insanity.
Categories:
unapplied, friendship, love, night, night,
Form: Free verse