Sunday, February 28, 2010

Bl. Angela of Foligno (patron of those afflicted by sexual temptation, widows)

it grows inside like a barnacle

clinging to the side of your ship

in lustrous green, the lusty mint

of age. after death, this is a thick

mistake, a bedroom in which to pull

the curtains, writhe instead of sleep.

know your sin and call it by name.

invite him over in the night, kiss

his neck as if it were a planet

out of orbit. it is a star that blisters

your lips, cries when punctured

with a pin.

No comments:

Post a Comment