beautiful
i will come to know why she wants a pure nocturnal sky. enveloped by the silence and cold, she says this word: lust. she claims to have married me, slowly, because of words. i will come to know the three questions she poses with her body: she wants to be a candle, a temple, and a glass of wine. but she tells me she is all of stone, so i tell her: flagstones. i will come to know the ruined counterfeit of her flight. she won't tell me she's worked anything out as a starling. she knows that moonlight makes even small things brilliant. i will come to know why she wants another poet, too. she will show me both her hands and say, hard: look. and she will be right. it is something about being seen. |
Comments 1 to 8 of 8
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Comments 1 to 8 of 8
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