Shall the night lay splayed, wide;
its legs, a face, a companion to
the body's light and dark. Such
tenderness a heaven to its spire,
a tower of thickening grapes. Quick
and changed the beautiful turns itself
towards violence; who calls its name
carries secret scars. And I am privy
to the knowledge of its hidden fury
just as those whose hearts are filled
with blood. Where I come from, where
you are- a wailing wall.
3 comments:
you've become what you always were sweet lady, a poet . each nurturing step.
"And I am privy
to the knowledge of its hidden fury
just as those whose hearts are filled
with blood. Where I come from, where
you are- a wailing wall."
I particularly like that part of your verse stanza, starting with "And..." is always a strong beginning....
You are too kind professor!
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