Your Kisses    by  Dorothy Porter

Smashed glass;
I flirt on shining cut feet.

Your mouth is cut glass
not decanter, not wine stem, what?

I cut myself into delirious shards;
the light shines like a wild fly's eye.

Then smashes;
a panting, pinned fly.

Hold this full glass to the light
kiss it smashed.

© Dorothy Porter

(from her book 'Driving Too Fast'
published by University of Queensland Press)