Lady,
A blanket on your bed
Is embroidered
With a simulated peacock,
His tail,
A variety of green colored threads,
With a little gold.
Through the window pane I see
A lizard
Drop a sun
From his throat.
Lady,
Atop your never-opened piano
Sits
A crucifix,
Lipstick stains
In the shape of your lips
Cover the bleeding wounds.
Through the window pane I see
Bees emerging from corollas,
Their fuzzy, dark legs
Speckled with gold.
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