I have sussed all taste and elegance
from my mother.
A box of Capris naps on her thigh,
right on time – in splendid ennui,
at the social hour of twilight.
The quick slight of her fingers
and humanity’s greatest discovery
illuminates its worst fear.
A cigarillo burns.
A fervent, yet subdued candor ensues.
Peel their skin until naked.
Sin embargo, rushing blood shreds the thickest skin.
This light will never burn out.