IV. façade

A wall of anonymity arises as faces withstand
the gazes of onlookers, amazed
at the message of a commodity:
that free art for free could be
a desire of the people;
was a desire of the people
in a place afraid of the crimes carried
in the perfume of her redolence - regular passerbys
molested with eyes that could sit idly by in
a culture still asleep to its discrimination of its daughters
or yet pilfered by the mindset which impoverishes
this country, her country, through the free reign
within the free market.

      IV.II.

Her breasts adorn beaches of desire
the silk of her vendors stacked along streets
her streets, like idol worshipers congregated
around the skirts of her temples. I wander,
wanting, already lost in the endless thread of her hair
hoping to end up on the cusp of the little isle
where her sylphs go; and this, inside of them, is my fantasy.
Her tongue drives sanity from its throne
a distant cousin to every language and yet unspoken -
the passion it contains swims ever so lucidly,
deeper into the murky depths on my mind.
the little waves follow behind, leaving an inescapable relish
a certain lullaby of sleepy wanton wonders.

V. La plage des nues

Nudity in such abundance that what clothes
there was seemed seethrough: limbs
at times awkwardly together in their march
of the body's will and at others, lagging
like twisted branches of decay. Borne in their copiousness
a certain disgusting beauty about the body's fragility -
a secret that sits right before us, daringly.
On sand, corpses writhed and simmered
left in a great exodus by their minds, left behind
in a fickle pursuit of recreation. She fancies the attention
the ripe abdomens of men with no greater worry
than spending their allowances.

     V.II.

Silver abode, turquoise loins and golden flames
rolling down smooth sculptures and hidden ivory.
Dare I see dragons and butterflies mate where hands
could only caress in adoration and veneration
of skin, flesh and their haphazard union with fresh
tones of light made thin enough to be captured
anchored and crowning a divine sight...
an angelic sign, emblem of deliquescent infatuation?

The sun kissed parchedness of her lips
   drive mine to moistness.