~An Evening at Panda’s Place~
Dry
wine flavors smoke. A ring
of
Rachmaninoff lists about our heads
It
glitters. The piece of micah, I mean,
set
into the grasping steel of a brooch.
This
is desire without love.
The
lights diffuse us through.
I
peel back the onionskin
Of
her psyche to find
an
instant
predatory thing.
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