• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 11
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Imagine a Woman

Play-Doh pliable

A state of matter
        accepting the shape
                   of              space
                      allotted by man

Something to hold
    agreeably smooth
hollows and curves
        touching warm

Sweet on the nose
  musk       vanilla
overtones of cherry
        and salt dough

And when it’s time
    to put away your toys
            leave her to crumble
                                             with age and neglect      
                                                               swept            away   

    for the limber pop of new.