Your eye is a recoilless rifle <br />my hand so believes <br />fourteen winds rise up <br />as the <br /> <br />roomful ghosts <br />plastic hunters in the ear <br /> <br />there are highway gamblers <br />in your impenetrable dress <br /> <br />your miniature bites <br />the size of Texas <br /> <br />your satin calligraphy <br />and indigo jive <br /> <br />the years are obsidian <br />our romance is meadow <br /> <br />your eye is a leash of fire.<br /><br />Larry Sawyer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/woman-38/
