for Elizabeth Mansutti
 
 
On the edge of the floodplains
At dusk
Beneath recursively barbed leaves
Shards of vermilion enamel
Drop onto burnt black earth.

Now delicately dismembered
The knobby sphere
Displays like jewels
On a jeweller’s cloth
Smooth inner membranes of vivid glass.

Stored in a basket
Beside my bed
Glossy cinnabar fruits
Exude a strange perfume.
The floury smell of semen
Penetrates my room.