Irene McKinney – Ⅱ
Entreaties (1)
Hold me: don’t press me down.
I want to be the apple of your eye,
for I am very rosy, and my heart
contains five slick black seeds.
Admit these with a strict belief.
Hold on: and press me
where I want to go.
Fold me, and crease my mind.
Filet the air around me, scent
the linen with an incense of delight.
Filter down the atmospherics of regret.
Go over all my dreams. Find me, and
lathe me down.
Hold me: don’t press me down.
I want to be the apple of your eye,
for I am very rosy, and my heart
contains five slick black seeds.
Admit these with a strict belief.
Hold on: and press me
where I want to go.
Fold me, and crease my mind.
Filet the air around me, scent
the linen with an incense of delight.
Filter down the atmospherics of regret.
Go over all my dreams. Find me, and
lathe me down.
>