A pint of Guinness
fattens the thinnest
of blood
flattens the fattest of kinks
Oh! that Irish sud

Diaphane

My love,

an August hour

blooming, shedding grey,

split a ruby flower

My love,

a lunar morsel,

swaying, tug of waves

sweet nectar through her torso

My love, a turgid trace

warm and wet the parcel

imbued

my helix strain

nestled

in her navel

sweet fabric

salty flesh

my love is elipsis