Poetry by M Sarki ∀Art by Anthony Lopez
In my dream
there was water,
lacustrine and
stable,
indefatigable
in its flatness
and murmurings.
An emerald sheen
the cast of its
surrounds.
Uncrowded.
And wild as
a windswept taiga.
When She No Longer Feels Ill
Rains made the vibrant
shag of ground cover
happy. Straddling
the fallen tree, her
naked bottom shined
with the yolk of
fresh spring water.
Her nipples erect
to both my stare
and the adjustments
I made to the settings
on my camera. I
rushed for the one
chance to capture
the arch of her back,
her shuddering copy
in the nervous branches
surrounding her
in front of the darkened
box recording our
little masterpiece.
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