The tender danger in my eyes seeks your flame;
I am afraid to touch you; I fear to look too long,
for I would put my own eyes out –
There is too much danger in beauty. Where
is the destiny in fire, that calls me
like a sacrificial moth? My wings of searing soul
have become powder. Only the wind makes me hover,
at your bed, by your side, over your shoulder...
I dare not trust the wind, it breathes too hard;
I dare not trust the hot exhalation torn
from your mouth during lovemaking;
when ashes are blown away, there remains nothing
but a dry husk of an exoskeleton,
inching feebly to the light. You burn me,
my love burns me, I live in constant fear of immolation.
YOU ARE READING
Excavations
שיריםOld poems and older poems. The art in here is far more recent - all illustration tiles were made between April 20, 2024 and May 12, 2024. Some of these poems were published in a chapbook, Eleusinian Mysteries, in 1995, under the pen name Sarah Maddo...