Lap lioness, her sherbet spoon
reflective tongue: orange driven deep.
Fruit flavors stain her nostrils spry
and running down in long, drawn lines
saliva slimes the pavement gray.
Hypnotic wrap, she spindles slow
Savannah false: a sauna stage
Reflective wet with flavors crushed
cranberries mesh with citrus, rolled
four honey-dews, papaya blend:
her Sunday salad bonus
Flaunt, contended as the Headline Show.
Savannah sun sets somewhere:
orange and yellow bright and virile signs
beyond her which she’s not to know.
Dominion now the stale fruit:
Tomatoes pocked and carrots cracked
A warm and brown elastic steak:
One afternoon performance feast
She almost hears you clapping.
JW Mark is a poet living in Ohio. Publications to include his work include The Ampersand Review, Eunoia Review, The Midwest Literary Magazine, flashquake, and The North Chicago Review. He is the author of a novel, entitled Artifice, as well as a book of poems entitled Patched Collective. He can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org