Loaming lapis lazuli, rolling and clunking
across all my baby periwinkle veins;
piling up outside in the driveway as I slosh
along Prussian blue blacktop,
itching to grasp the umbrella and walk
into your waistcoat,
get devoured in your vest and aristocrat tie,
stumbling on skinny shaky filly legs
and clacking heels like a harpsichord
gone baritone and groaning for a string snap.
Catching whorls in my skirt and
you spurt real fast up the steps like a
tiger bounding its way towards the fumbling
impala yawing like a bush plane going down
over the icy tundra you snatch me—
a baseball in a mitt yow—and into lapis lazuli
we collide and send a river into a
waterfall.

© Copyright A. Marie Kaluza 2015

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