analemma

   The Sleeping Gypsy, 1897, by Henri Rousseau

thank you

that was very honorable

the way you held me

mercifully 

in your infinite arms of 

immaculate plasma 

yes. i was in need

i had danced with a bleak song

curled up in his lap

-the crater of a darkside moon

inhaled his pipe

-a rare child’s final farewell

and now

i am spun gold

i am the brightest flash 

of the upper limb

i am the moment of discovery and 

this sun
is a whirling dervish 

© 2014-Rene