Wednesday, February 11, 2009

aurora

wind-ladled raw
in sharp Levitical slaps,

made soft and pink and clean
as the inside of a
baby's mouth;

inertia transposed over layers
and layers of prophecy.

stripped down shivering to
stasis, the birth cry

in the damp white seclusion
of hollowed-out eyes:

strangers bloom from the dust
of what once was.

No comments: