Last evening <br />sharp-snipping scissors cut my hair <br /> <br />and white cream squeezed from a nozzled <br />tube in a box turned <br />my locks <br />black <br /> <br />and tonight I have strange thoughts <br />about love <br />like ash <br />stirred in a bronze dish with <br />the stub of my pen <br /> <br /> <br />when I wore <br />a patterned silk kimono <br />smelling of <br />patchouli oil <br />and moved inside the slight <br />ghost of my long-haired youth <br /> <br />after the lover’s cigarette <br />I slept <br />on newly-warmed <br />white wedding-bed-sheets <br />then you were green too weighty in- <br />between my tender thighs <br /> <br /> <br />tonight <br />it must be the waxing <br />moon <br />the red lip-stick’s <br />smiling reflection and my <br /> <br />black cut glossy hair <br />I have strange thoughts that are <br />soft shadows flickering <br />behind the grey eyes <br />gazing from the nakedness I wear.<br /><br />Jacqui Thewless<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/strange-thoughts-tonight/
