Couture


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Watched
by the zealous-eyed beguile
of emerald charmante and jaded éolienne;
 

fluid,
under the gaze of the mantua-maker,
sharp glint of his bladed eye
swish-swathing through tamarind messaline,
 

cut
just on the bias,
cross-grain tilted
to the wet-spliced warp and weft,
 

waiting
for the softly-draped
deconstruction to begin.
 
 

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Filed under Free Verse, Poetry

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