May 2005 / Volume Six / Issue Three
Amanda Oaks
the habitual carousing of merriment

itd be some sort of
languid phenomenon
without strategy
for you to notice
the way my body moves
through illumination,
pinpoint bits of light
skipping over my skin
like stones
that sink to the floorboards
in seasick
retro
fashion

our burgundy tinted lips
the way my eyes shift
to rally yours
into some effervescent
mind
twist,
some ever-living
love
fit
that could waltz
on through
the dawn
RETURN to May 2005