That is our body,
there are fuses--
sometimes the arcing electricity is blinding,
blows cicuit breakers
breaking under the weight
of secrets and sorrow
and singularity
Sparking, this is my body
in the shadows
This is my body that confuses
and confesses
lights up the darkness
with quick flames --- that lick the sore spots
This is my body
a confession
an omission
of blinding sadness
and power
16 February 2007
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1 comment:
This poem is really great.
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