She Does Not Rhyme
July 28, 2007 § Leave a comment
With Thanks to Georgia O’Keefe and the Empress Card of the Tarot (3)
She JUST CHOSE the most beautiful color she could.
How Dare She!!
As if Life would permit us to retain this much sweetness
from Its privileged height
As if God would not be offended we had taken
this degree of LIBERTY.
As if a moment can give birth to itself
over and over and over.
As if innocence was the child of wisdom.
As if age begets light.
His perfect sonnet leans
against my dreams
with rhymes as delicate
as summer morning breezes
pressing petals against leaves.
If I am his lover
then you are my mother
kneeling over and over and over
to catch my falling head as I am born between your legs.
You have painted the sun into the backside
of an indigo pansy.
You have poured milk
over velvet (you slut).
You have washed my mouth
out with eternity.
And I owe you
And I can never repay you.