She grasped me as would a gentle man.
I, illuminated like ambulance
with fingertip grips behind back.
I had almost to peer, like through a rabbit hole
see her scabs:
hardly any.
I'd lick them with rabbit love.
When I was young no line existed between the hood
and Wonderland
drawn out branches reaching for the sun
now the line is strict red and solar purple
on an eclipse night. Strung
out home alone with seaweed fetish
a masked parade of flesh
feelings. My only guest:
abstract meaning of a woman
breasts or no breasts, more.
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