From Your Uninviting Arms
Copyright (c) 1995, Daniel Sendecki
All Rights Reserved


from your uninviting arms



The moon - tattoed on an obese negro woman
rolled away when she
(sleep groggy) changed positions.

I saw this on the night I walked away

The night I caught - not a shooting star
but the flickering death of a streetlamp.
And held it as beautiful phenomena

On the night I walked in from the
fat folds of nights bosom to find 
tomorrows paper had been delivered.

Remember when you refused to hug me?
The night was only too willing.

