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Weeds grow where they want to; not where they're told to...

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Dee McMahon

Perfectly Formed

For Nicky

 

Yesterday and the hissing of summer vines

 

The ritual re-dressing of the body.  Colours all shades orange and lilied, textured pure and fine.  Organza gossamer sheered seamless. Flawless.  Satined pelt

felt of the barely flowered.  All every thing rendering a solitary silked imp unclouded un-muddied continuum

so new

 

That was before

 

Sobriety filed and fingered the filigreed form for itself, barely disguised moderate temperature taker, whiter

than thou with succour at heart, caring and paring it

down, lye peeling, sealing his fate

 

Undertake

 

Beauty stole the show before the henchmen came

 

Perfection wasn’t in it

 

Don’t tell me you didn’t have a ball

   

 

 

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