TAPESTRYOkra, stamens, roots, all that in nature
coalesces in straight, staunch, erect
growth; also, a shadow father bent,
then erect, then bent again, perverse
from amassing wealth in a world
whose submissiveness poisons him;
was all she saw in bed with me that night.
I was, it turns out, to be part of a tapestry;
where I’m woven in— off-center,
towards the right edge, beige, as she
chiseled a persona out of who
she was, pliant, planed beneath our
thrusts, caresses, & did homage
to the agony of submissive flesh.
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