Bathsheba
Gary Steven Corseri
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| PHOTO: Michael L. Baird |
Originally published in the October 2012 issue of Empirical
Across the summer breeze she moves,
silver bracelets snaking forearms,
silver earrings scooping starlight.
She weaves between the dark and light
of the pooled moon, in leopard’s skin,
soles barely touching cool flagstones.
A choreography of desert blooms
divides the mist in summer’s orchard.
Her maids swirl scents in precious waters.
A strap unwound, her garment droops
like last blood-luscious leaves,
diaphonously vanishing.
Drunk night spills at her feet.
Water cupped, palms rise to lips,
whispering unctuous prayers.
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