Dusky Musky Ophelia

Ophelia is outside my house.

Painting the very air in cinnamon hues.

Swirling past garbed in widow’s weeds.

Spiraling off strange currents.

There is musk and spice in the air:

The tail-end of lusty desires.

The very air resonates

with a heady tang and bated breath

This storm blows.

 

Copyright Tom Tide 2017

 

 

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