(Tiger Woods)
Eagle-eyed scrutiny
in a talon's clasp -
the taunting grasp
of knowing fingers.
Rapid uplift,
coil
and uncoil explosion -
thrust
with a rocket's trajectory.
Out of kilter -
his affirmative tick
droops under the grind
of spent, slackening cogs.
On the fairway's trim,
in the tree-top dapple,
with the fallen leaves
he stands.
Hiatus...
Pendulum swing...
Silhouette.
She arcs -
the curvature
of a hooked-beak,
primed,
breath tantalised
on the verge of imminence.
In the rushed embrace of gravity
she falls from height -
strikes the apex,
bites, rips,
rolls and writhes
in the ecstasies of wild precision -
a little death...
And a smile
penetrates his lips
in a succession of waves -
like the spread of electric tide.
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