- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Light of Distant Cities
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When his fingers touched her breasts,
her ego left for Omaha—
by the night train, the one with all the stops.
The body that remained was like that statue in the park,
the one the lightning struck, scarred
a little from the bolt and always strangely warm.
- COMMENTS
wildsweetonealmost 18 years agoI don't see a single spare word in this poem that needs removing. You say so much with so very few words and I admire your skill. Thank you for sharing your poetry.
wso
Reltnealmost 18 years agoWell done, but I think it should be listed as erotic; at least it is for me.
