Crucial Remnants

A pretty yellow dress
bunched up, it is, in the corner
not so pretty, as it was,
lying soggy
wrung
misshapen

The mooring Pacific Ocean
it tasted, as it was, of skin
not unfresh, it is,
stretching over
scented
flesh (yours)

A disarming contraction
bunched up, it is, deeper
less pliable, as it was,
before control
abandoned
compulsion

The heated spasms
eyelids, as it was, lashes
lashing, it is,
painful
bloody

and alas and

salty