Jane Unwinds
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Searching for some kind of posture
Jane unwinds in opiate slumber,
Dreamcast in her spectral aura,
Smiles at her photographer
Who, busy with the lights and props
Is sidetracked by her falling dress;
Merging with the night, he stops
To contemplate this fragile hauntress.
Breathless screams and turgent
tundra
Jumble Jane, her eyes now closed
To all, beyond the moontwitch
spasms
Lurking in the studio:
Coolest flushes rush, caress
The flesh below her falling dress
Her brazen belly now disrobed
Her naked shoulders now exposed...
A driving whirlpool fills her senses,
Shimmers through her ghostly tresses
Ever-burning, twist-and-turning
Reeling magic through her likeness.
Framing Jane against the darkness
Switchèd sleepweight fills the air...