Girlfriends derived from Verlaine for John Griffith That hot September night, we slept in a single bed, naked, and on our frail bodies the sweat cooled and renewed itself. I reached out my arms and you, hands on my breasts, kissed me. Evening of amber. Our nightgowns lay on the floor where you fell to your knees and became ferocious, pressed your head to my stomach, your mouth to the red gold, the pink shadows; except I did not see it like this at the time, but arched my back and squeezed water from the sultry air with my fists. Also I remembered hearing, clearly but distantly, a siren some streets away -- de da de da de da -- which mingled with my own absurd cries, so that I looked up, even then, to see my fingers counting themselves, dancing. -CAROL ANN DUFFY -- ╭─╮╭╮ ╭╮╮ ╭╮ │╰╯│╰╮╭╭╮│ │╭─╮╭ ╮│╰╮"Poetry is what gets lost in ╭╮││ ╯││││ │╭ │││││ ╯ translation." ╰─╯╰╰╯╰─│╰╯╯╰╰╯╰╰╯╰╰╯ -- Robert Lee Frost ───── ╰─╯ ─────────── http://darkshadows.org/~skyhawk ─ --

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