He pulled at the thread as her dress unwound
And a world unravelled its modesties.
The splitting green weave tumbled to the ground,
Revealing formerly unseen bodies.
Now he strokes skin with filthy fingers,
And she circles behind to surround
Him. Their uncoiling bodies linger,
As the last thread falls to earth, resounding,
Sparking earthquakes in the old vale,
Treeless from efforts to bring the
Land into line, (the desired dale),
With his expectations of her.
She, relieved, lies as he takes
Liberties under a veil
Of tenderness; hidden aches
As he breaks her, makes her frail.
The vale is overrun,
As the quake tremors shake
Her contours, she's undone;
Releasing breathy gales
That tear through hair as
She sits in sun,
Dawn birds blare.
Homes, they dare
So sits the unravelled dress on the ground,
Sweat sodden symbol of a world unwound.