Van/ity (for Natalya)

The happy inconvenience of forced reliance on these, the sole tools I own

for prying below your oh so frozen golden skin,

The patient persistent application of these blunt lips, this inagile tongue,

trying to learn entire the inarticulate soul hiding within --

peeling it away     layer    by     layer  

from the long & blonde cool slim softvanilla Ukrainy icecreamcone

lying frostdelicious  beside my pillow.

I (reluctantlustily) Bonaparte after you Kutuzov: 

who hawkodineyed watch for every movement upon your flanks and

          (engaging not, engaging, not) withdraw, withdraw

                   withdraw apace,          another pace—

all communication broken, 

knicking off my van/

                                  /                (engaging not, engaging not)

                                  /

                                  /                                till

                                  /

                                  /                                                    suddenly

                                  /

                                  /

                                                                                                                                                     

                                  / confront we                :Borodino                                                              

                                  /

                                  / frontal attack into your center

                                  / bodies blood contorted everywhere

                                  / ferocious punishment on either side

                                  /

                        The c/ity of tsars ash against stars and ice

and our dreadful painful slow long extraction begins. 

--Duane Vorhees