untouchable ...

First words catch impressionable shadow
off-guard. Delusion’s fancy-woman
sighs, “just love me.” Dusty veil jades
years, feeds rueful dark on waste.

Stone wall bids her flirt subdued in shade,
learn to beg scant ease at pining table.
Her shape, a finger puppet skinned alive,
is comely though removed from touch

of hand or eye that says, “please love me,”
dances to spilled flesh and hollow wax,
sad pleasure’s wane. Tonight her shadow
fancies building fires, removing veils.

*image: Jack Spencer

thank you, dearest Pentacular, for your gorgeous
email critique! *hugsss*