Magnolia Hurricane

Little magnolia hurricane
tossing sea salt from the wind-whipped
tentacles of your cowlicks

crown of gossip curls
what kind of candy do I need
to stock

to get you to come inside?
stitched together of your own
piano drawn fingers

no one else would care
I stoop to kiss blood on your hip
to apply a sermon

slipping from your blue jeans like
a coral snake from its
old skin.

TA