Nettles
See the handsome swathes of dark green nettles,
Their pretty heads between my blistered thighs;
Bare to the pain, my rutting stain,
Barely sane, my nettled brain;
My odour of almonds and lilacs lying,
Of spices dying, of copra in the setting sun;
Quiet I squat in my dark green bed of pain,
Ripe I blush my fleshy frame.
