--- B U C K   B U C H A N A N

Tuned on wired strings
Our kisses smash
Lips of mauve
Heat the moments
And toll the melting gristle stone
Poundings which ring
Like an anvil
And thrash in the pitch
Of their song,
A kiss refracted in the billowed sound
Of eternity's image moving
A face wrenching tears in lines
Chide your daily quest
Divest their wet gloss and
Wait for winds to dry them
Wait for the rains to sear them
If eternity has an image
And time is the image moving
Then love builds rungs of rhythm
And sees with eyes
Bleeding through the gauze
A shallow deity
A nature shelled to raw meat
Which sings its moments in sex.