Sunset, Mount Maunganui

The Mount already
takes in all the fecund night
before the light has gone,
while the warmth of the day
still sheaves around it like a skin.
And what other eyes had seen
in the intruding light
now becomes again a precious thing.
And the mountain sunk in dusk
fingers over its sillouette
like one blinded
tracing the secret folds,
the stories of her body,
which others see,
but which she alone
may carry, electric,
in her dark touch,
in the amber of her deep night.


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