sketch

she was just a sketch

a cup, you think--

the cup is tipped, or

a single expanse curled,

or maybe whiteness drifts.

harshest autumn,

tiny vases litter your floor.

to feel/to ____/ to___ within

light?

milk and honey,

honey or skin draught

for a more precise winter and

the nosebleed as something lyrical.

unaccustomed face.

as a sketch she is heavy.

a "he" tells her, you are something that draws

me back to instinctive heritage

tied, small sketch replies, "your body"

more creative than the last to

pass through my

(pit of a california peach)

to still within light, still

a light that clings faintly edible.