I am having to do this here alone. No one to tell me when the ocean will begin. I came to explore the wreck. The words are purposes. The words are maps. I came to see the damage that was done and the treasures that prevail, the drowned face always staring toward the sun. This is the place and I am here, the mermaid whose dark hair streams black, carrying a knife, a camera, a book of myths in which our names do not appear. -Adrienne Rich, Diving Into the Wreck.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
She's your morning read
The way she spreads across the table/ knows what she wants
caresses your forearm/ as you bring her close closer eyeing
where you find her own smell/ so romantic
The newspaper wants you/ to unfold her/ from the crease
ruffle her pages/out of order/ mess her contents/up
On the table/ take /your time now / a slow read
the inserts/ pull them/ out / lick & turn/ her over
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment