by Jeremiah Johnson
Percolating diligently amidst
the Hair of a Beast
and a nozzle of metal
comes Apollonian Pulchritude
laced neatly across pale skin
The antiquarian tone bites
nourishing the end of an era
The reminiscing esprit
opens her mind to find totality
in the eyes of dried paint
Frame-less and solemn sits her
abiding to amiable truths,
for the spilling of coffee runs
and opens sores of love
for her dire request
