Friday, June 1, 2012

poem || David Jalajel


scour the shoreline for the silver dollars
skipping off the water in slow motion
scanning for patchy colour is quite lovely
eyes like the dark green outer creases hold
luxuries tumble easy slip on wear
with goring ankle straps the lace up front
to feel the rhythmic music freely pouring
out the icy droplets band across
their foreheads and their flowing golden hair
with copper hints at pressures to resist
coming out prematurely from the bright
trappings on their towelling drying eyes
a frosted moon that slides across the counter
insisting those initial terms apply

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