Coralina

Upon her eyes where the crows feet call, it is you Coralina whom often I dream of; her teardrops shelter the shimmering glimmering afternoon stars which make upon her cheek a deep red dark.

I am sleeping but have not slept a wink; the women whose toes curl beneath the web of a gossamer dress have not been sleeping with me.

Upon the way a couple, between them an apple tree. It is a shame to think- I have thought, arms are never as long as we need them to be.

‘It is night, can you not tell?’ Across the way a home, a chimney smoking, let us take this bed and ruffle the sheets once more.