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| Tim Walker |
Shivers in her sepia dust
She looks out her window
Pompeii’s silver stars stroll
Past her mahogany slivers
Hesitation—
Picks out her best robe
Jalapeno fireworks
She has bathed herself and
Is ready for the night
Slips on the red-orange velvet
Of Midas sparkles
Slowly savors the fluid melt
Velvet intertwines against chocolate
Winds itself to her toes
But she has forgotten the hem—
Material slips past and
Overshines silver stars below
Unaware, she steps out
But there is only darkness below
Her audience has gone to sleep
Written: 8/24/01
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