ReConfigured: During A Cloudy Evening

Clad only in a lace bra and panties,
and a matching garter belt that holds up
translucent tan stockings, totally sheer
except for opaque reinforcements that make


your heels and toes exquisitely prominent


(and unimpeded by shoes),
you pose in various postures and stances---
with an assorment of gestures,
and the subtle implications
that always inhabit your smiles---
in front ofa charted map
of our galaxy. The notated stars
hurry in straight lines to cluster at your curves---
the long-expected, ultimate constellation,
awaited for aeons since the original detonation
from which arose the first, arranged formation;
which is defined as Creation---
despite senescent skeptics' derogation
of the truths disclosed through revelation.
As you move about with such delectation,
the parquet floor---
and the concrete slab beneath it---
and the surface of earth beneath that---
receive and cherish the silent pleasure of the


inaudible glide of your stockinged feet;


while the stars, in hushed awe, experience

the sevenfold surge of light emerging
out of their seeting cores where the
fusion of hydrogen to helium
offers you this effulgent stellar homage.



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