|
Untitled
|
Sept. 10, 2002 ]
8:41 PM
|
Her lips are cold and closed
Barricaded against the spill
Of words that threaten to
Break free of the dam
Each unspoken word a gem
Or shallow coin to fill
The almsbowl of the
Poor and starving soul.
What of the other?
Her lips are sealed
A watertight barrel
Against the painful slither
Of slavish slatternly snakes
And each and every toad that
She must silently swallow
A sorrow that will increase in
The deepest nethers of her soul.
Tentative title: Two Sisters
Based on the old fairy tale.
|
wax
]
wane
|
|
|