I just wanted to finger my
way inside the light,
slow thread into capture, press my new
legs aside the sweetness of the
lilac balm
of night.
Breathe in the fleshflower
on the breast of
new life.
Fresh and wet rush the veins
of a deadened universe.
Thirsty neck of holy water,
pleasurepain of erotica
drowning in
fair tenderskin.
Forbidden. Invitation. Permission.
Palms dripping wild of fruit.
Wingbeats,
everstrong.
Descend with me here in small butterflies,
a breeze falls open upon the cradled hands
of one last time
I come alive
and the swallow of the mad blue sky
catches fire
in your eyes.
.
.
Allison Marie Conway 