CARRINA MONTEFIORE
I shed olympic pounds after I first
met you. You were the darling of
my spring, the rigor in my mortis,
and - in a never-ending fashion -
the erotic dough of my bread-loaf
frolics. In all, it was as magical as
a monsoon in the desert, or of a
Heaven found deep within some
Hell. We wore our military cloaks
like Nazi footsoldiers : hemming
and hawing, bowing to salute,
sniping with a rapier, kissing the
concrete ledges. Ships, unfurled
at sea, never teemed with more
wild turbulence as you - and me.
I remember all this, and so much
much more, oh my darling,
Carrina Montefiore.
I shed olympic pounds after I first
met you. You were the darling of
my spring, the rigor in my mortis,
and - in a never-ending fashion -
the erotic dough of my bread-loaf
frolics. In all, it was as magical as
a monsoon in the desert, or of a
Heaven found deep within some
Hell. We wore our military cloaks
like Nazi footsoldiers : hemming
and hawing, bowing to salute,
sniping with a rapier, kissing the
concrete ledges. Ships, unfurled
at sea, never teemed with more
wild turbulence as you - and me.
I remember all this, and so much
much more, oh my darling,
Carrina Montefiore.
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