Where a couple of lucifers sit

The weather over Portugal
is hot, is cold, is noon.
Between the legs of moaning
crabs doing handstands
on the wall, like two palms grown together,
they stand and impede the stirring breeze.
The happy red couple under
one falling sun and few stars in the early night
undress, and walk chest-first,
their chests full of each other,
into the cleaving ocean hungry and disappear.

Dedicated to Patrick, for no reason.

~ by Jeremy on July 16, 2009.

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