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.