Friday, September 23, 2005

the note


typed neat
no smudges stark white
knife edged folds not
as sharp as the razor


i would like a coffin
of polished wood
dark and shining as
a buckeye just pried

from it's prickly jacket,
smooth with a soft glow
tempting hands to stroke

satin under fingertips
reminding you
of my skin.

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