By Eric Janken
Standing in the shadows like an egret in full sunlight
Her body moves with beautiful strange fluidity, a torrential rain That cools, warms, caresses, and gently slaps
The eyes of those admirers of whom she is blissfully unaware Of whose passion is more powerful than the rough currents of The Atlantic, whose waters bear both fruit and pain unto the ends
Of the world.
For by the banks of the Euphrates that runs so muddy and clean into the
Souls of men who watch from afar, she sits Auburn hair glistening in the twilight where
A blood red sun joyfully shines down, intent on unleashing one last Ray before She too is cut down by the ecstasy of the Moonlight, Jealous and full-‐lipped