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Demure by Lois P. Jones

​She pours the cabernet
to show you its flame.
You've never looked
at rubies this way before.
Your large hand lifts
the goblet to examine
love's color. Isn't a stem
sensual she thinks; like Monet's
Poplars on the Epte.
You wonder if this is how
she tastes — dark and musky
like earth. You want to see
her eyes dim to red smoke,
hear her voice
knot around yours
in a husky tangle.
Thoughts quiver
around the poets’ table
like sunset moths.
It's hot so she snaps
her fan and the room

opens into brocade.

Tonight she’s a dark
episode. Everywhere
you touch burns.
How much heat
will you believe?
​Her work has appeared in Rose & Thorn, The California Quarterly, Prism Review among others. She is the co-editor of A Chaos of Angels and a documentarist of Argentina's wine industry. In 2008, her work received IBPC's First Prize honors judged by Fleda Brown. She co-produces Moonday's monthly poetry reading and guest hosts Poet's Cafe on KPFK. She is Associate Poetry Editor of Kyoto Journal.
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