the
broken dove
lay,
forgotten, under large
truck tires

the skeleton
crushed
yet
spirited – as if
animated by an alien energy
and with every
fluttering breath (the very exhalation!):
Grace!

Grace
past imagination
Grace!
beyond smooth
ballet steps turned
by
naked beauties
on
alabaster floors

-pink water swirls-

muscles tense with -blood-
rush to the groin

I mount

-locked into the dove-

violent ripples in the
piston fluidity
of a
pale thigh

-retaining wall crumbles-

viscous
crash of flesh
as pace quickens, lightning
streaks behind the dove’s
closed eyes-
rebirth

-supernova heat explosion-

and we
fall away (heavy) from
the wet (breathing) connection
and lay there-

my back
scratched raw-
blood
pooling-

the broken dove
reincarnated


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