The Writer's Voice
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Back and Forth
by
Kirsten Sorensen
Trepidation, well bred
at the moments when
my virtue sleeps.
Silhouette--
you're agreeably twisted
in my hollow
shape-clings-holds-dear,
fanatical motion.
Ah, my contrary adoration.
To melt, this ebb
and change - it'll
come again.
Yesterday so raspy
mauve, now
a little green
perhaps? Once
a menace, I see
my hold is patronized.
No, stop, 'tis
a plateau.
Leave me, let
me sleep.
You're an imperfection
in wait, my dear.
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