Loud as Her Peacock Cry

(Broken Angel)

2.1.2012

 

I am a descendent of Bronze rain

Stripping my mask off of vented honey

Being lonely flies to white feathers

 

Across the sweetest distances

Like a new-born heart made ready

By life to interpret love

                    

Can I ever truly be tired

Of these salty harbors, in a woman’s arms?

I am a descendent of those who

 

Traversed seas, fled Earths

For the Timeless mother’s wide embrace

Goldener nude, with heels of foam

 

And a soul checked by unsmelled flowers

My palms know twilight & heartbreak

These grandiose gestures of taming desire

 

For a future that repeats itself

In our hemlock and braids

In the peacock satisfaction of temporary being.

Reviews

[Circe]

hmmm, that picture.. so familiar... this one just has to felt... don't know what to say but that it unpetals so softly.. for understanding.. it pulsates with beauty.