he had a date with a Glenda really she looked like the Good Witch of the North
her icyblue gown had thrown him
for a curve
and
in defiance of the deference to Honor or the hypersensibilities Regality exuded he willfully risked life
or limb to dance with the Good Witch determined to learn if the curves he might
undrape would match the curve he was thrown for
its brilliant silverblueness
was starkly offset by her lascivious
rubyred painted mouth which she held
in an attitude and fresh restlessness of plumped yearning petals
their color was deftly enhanced by the
backdrop the jetblack asphalt street that she stood on a curb above
it spread behind her like oil or the
relaxed surface of a pond
only its sharpwhite midline dividing
one side of the street from the other suggested any distinction of substance
otherwise
it seemed to lap purse close
beckoning
he had her
his hand at the small of her back
his fingers spread down onto her
rump
his leg and hip tucked in between
her legs
as he retired his hand
he lifted his other to take her
by the elbow
she sighed
her eyes fluttered innocently
too innocent
she leaned back unafraid unhesitantly
her forearm slipping between his
fingers
she fell backwards off the curb perfectly flat pivoting off her unseen heels
her fingers passed through his
like the breath of a cold
Lake Michigan wind
the street opened like water
spreading around her
absorbing her
and through the hole where she
fell he watched her sink like a scintillating bluestone
thensuddenlyasif he were in possession of her sight he saw himself falling up away from her
through the same hole she entered
growing smaller and smaller and smaller
1234, Saturday,
30 10. 15
