February 6, 2012

poem 38 of a poem a day for 2012





la sete per la Dea

how far can I fall from revolution to revolting
from a few letters to a silence nearer my molting
or is it,I've come to my senses,a knife quick consensus
that I am an integral part of the Goddess's menses
and in her flows whether wood.iron or tremble bud
life is constant reconstruction,undertowed with this blood

life leans westward in preen,stardust falling against my back
stretch pulling these fabrics of time,that shadows use to track
all the muffled bird cries I hear,calling my corners blind
calling each echo's shiny stone that forests know to find
where I'm bound to how she wears me,her sacro cuore sown in
where she's never far away in exhale,wanting with sin


EJR (c)

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