Gedicht
Merlinda Bobis
IN BED WITH LORCA
IN BED WITH LORCA
IN BED WITH LORCA
when fringe of lipsand tips of hair
run a sweet fever
at one o’clock in the morning
when a shameless nipple
stares like a hot-hard eye
at one o’clock in the morning
when the little finger
and the little toe
burn holes on wind and earth
it is the hour of the gipsy heart
vagrant of my lover’s body
cul-de-sac of belly
avenue of thigh
still dark and silent
at one o’clock in the morning
when the whole world sleeps
save me who waits
for the double somersault
of the heart
© 1998, Merlinda Bobis
From: Summer was a fast train without terminals
Publisher: Spinifex, North Melbourne
From: Summer was a fast train without terminals
Publisher: Spinifex, North Melbourne
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IN BED WITH LORCA
when fringe of lipsand tips of hair
run a sweet fever
at one o’clock in the morning
when a shameless nipple
stares like a hot-hard eye
at one o’clock in the morning
when the little finger
and the little toe
burn holes on wind and earth
it is the hour of the gipsy heart
vagrant of my lover’s body
cul-de-sac of belly
avenue of thigh
still dark and silent
at one o’clock in the morning
when the whole world sleeps
save me who waits
for the double somersault
of the heart
From: Summer was a fast train without terminals
IN BED WITH LORCA
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