The stars drop Thin and sinister as pins Into the silver skin, the skin The skin of lions 5 Skins of seals Peeled back bleedingly, A washed eyeball, after the thumb And water have come With their pressure of good wishes; 10 The wet skins Shed silk bloods, I-dots That spatter the dry concrete So appealingly! Such pure dark washes of dropped blood--- 15 Pure as the clean Simple things you say to me. Night's absences Recede And dawn breathes 20 Blue and new as a bruise In the vacant east. Strange, isn't it, How you and I Were each 25 Born with a mouth to pronounce death with?
From the collection "Contemporaries"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.