Gown
Your gown touches the ground
the outline of your body
visible deliciously ethereal
the breeze voraciously besieges your legs
dictating their every move and
I want to build a church
to match your angelic shape
and to erect an altar
atop the inviting space
designed by your thighs and
as a point of reverence for
the upcoming generations
I’ll place an icon high up
where the anger subsides and
your mound stands
unerring judge of both
the dead and the alive
Manolis Aligizakis 