“When my eyes are weeds,
And my lips are petals, spinning
Down the wind that has starting
Where by the crumpled beeches begin
In a fringe of salty reeds
When my arms are elder-bushes,
And the rangy lilac pushes
Upward, upward by means of my coronary heart

Summer, do your worst!
Gentle your tinsel moon, and call on
Your executing stars to tumble on
Headlong by means of your paper sky
Nevermore shall I be cursed
By a flushed and amorous slattern,
With her dusty laces’ sample
Trailing, as she straggles by. ”

Dorothy Parker

Posted by d i a n e p o w e r s on 2015-08-13 seventeen:01:39

Tagged: , re-shot with Hispamatic , August 2012