Darkness draws in uneven from the sea
like a flood of mercury.
We draw in our skirts, we set the bread to leaven,
while dusk comes torpid out of heaven;
some animus oppresses
our forms into our dresses.
Desire, a sudden watchfulness, an urge to scale roofs
and watch the market tumble into the sea.
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Excellent.
ReplyDelete-The Child of Poverty and Human Effort