Page 13 - Contrast1977Novemberv21n1
P. 13
DEATH IS AN OLD WOMANI SLOVER
your voice
forms the shape of my mouth
your look
forms the shape of my laughter
your touch
forms the shape o£ my breasts, my thighs.
you curl around me
like smoke.
I breathe you in.
you seep from my eyes
when I sleep,
when I wake,
like smoke.
KeZly stone
