Poem: The coldest warmest hug undone by a film camera

‘’Attention To Detail’’ by Deborah Stevenson

In a puff of smoke

read

Iqra times three

The doors of perception are sealed with thumb tacks

Ticker tape my physical heart

My magical smokescreen

Incense clears the air

Sweeter than a human breath

Calmer the looks my lovers give

I only have the heart for women

Men and things debase me

Agile fingers

Clumsy the woods becoming

Tchaikovsky and the pricey fine operas

cant afford

I can only buy a pigeon

Save up for the swallow.

I stretch cat like

Hands up turned, empty

Who do you wait for?

At the train station

Mi5, international.

I have had my Special K

Lets play the association game

A sister of Mrs. O’ O'Keeffe said

Reader of the Wall street Journal.

Exponential-

Growth.

My dowry is my weight in fine Indian gold.

Switch silver in a settled Gypsy hand

My poor grandmother. She wouldn't want pity.

All night, before she gave the old soil her final breath

She received her light show

my father and finding Haleem in the Old City back alley

I am my mothers daughter.

Who took away her lust for life?