Her velvet dressed kiss
Withstood the bristle of my face
To place itself where intended,
And the sackcloth of my
Posture prospered at the touch.
A germ of colour was
Nourished and stretched across
The colourless; a frost was thawed
And treated to the warmth
That only comes from another.
Stooped and stolen
Shoulders commuted with the aims
Of their creator, and a spine,
So hard to find before,
Emerged from previous curves worn.
Love would never lean so
Low again to advance a mouth, or
Stand to reach, and freely clamp me
To the land I’d given
Forfeiture to instead of title;
For I thought only the idle
Cushioned themselves in the confined
Dimensions of the Earth’s good surface;
Born and bred and spread
Over every certain contour met,
Whilst I had hidden skyward;
Wandered on the scent of mechanisms
Risen from the stew once mixed with
Elemental breath, instead
Of breathing my being into it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment