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This
chamois-curve
of
stake and navel,
nipple
to bone,
stretched
out shin-taut
across
a forgotten knapsack,
in
a useless shelter ―
so
much of my skin
remains
desolate.
Take
care not to touch
the
turgid canvas,
full
mouth without a kiss,
pup-tent
trembling in the rain,
in
a constant state of hope
for
Yosemite.
tk/November 2012
Beautiful read by R.A.D. Stainforth...
*Charis, Lake Ediza, California, 1937, by Edward Weston
