by Karl Koweski
(03/12/08)
Cerlayne slips out of her
snug baby blue panties
unclasps her matching bra
and slides the straps down
her toned arms, over the
Celtic protection symbols
tattooed on both shoulders
she surveys her figure
in the boudoir mirror
picks up the scabbard and
unsheathes the katana
she poses with the gleaming
steel sickling across her
torso, between her breasts,
the tip resting at her shoulder
the hilt at her hip
she keeps her weight
on her right foot
her left leg cocked making
the transition from thigh
to buttock uninterrupted
Cerlayne brings the sword up
until the edge bisects her
face, dividing the eyebrows
like caterpillar shangri-las
blossoming into the
butterfly of her face
her eyes are the same
powder blue as her panties
holding the same glint
as her samurai sword
I'm not as alarmed as
I probably should be
especially when she turns
away from the mirror and
places the tip of her sword
between my legs a couple
inches south of a critical
juncture in my anatomy
lying on her queen sized bed
I'm surrounded by an arsenal
of edged weapons, both
ornamental and functional
dragon-hilted daggers
flat black ninja swords
sais and throwing knives
none within my reach
she smiles like a scimitar
her body glistens in the
half-light like a
jeweled pommel
as she lays the katana
next to me and crawls
across my prone body
her lips part like a
scalpel wound and
her mouth encloses mine
our tongues duel and
in my arms her body
is the most dangerous
weapon she possesses
The Poet's Companion - by Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Laux