She feels it shimmering up
like Sappho through
her feet. She opens more space
into her flannel gown,
billowing out the sapphire night
and she opens
her hands to the gust/
steaming cappuccino ascending.
Now she’s
wide open, a Blue Mountain gash,
a gateway of split,
morning’s bean, a
portal beyond the
ocean/ she rises, rises,
above 
boulder sleep
and soars, flies,
unfolds into
the perfect Adonic
of morning’s café au lait.