le poème
Nightshade
I have in me a sickness
that doesn't allow me to see
clearly. Or makes me see
too clearly the sadness
of all living things.
Recognizing the death
before glorying in the life.
The end always taints the preface.
No matter how happily
ever
after.
He drove us home Sunday. I leaned out the window like a new puppy.
Trees black against summer's dusk.
Sometimes I swear I can see the earth's curve
as clearly
as the sinister hip of a whore lying on her side.
Naked and Vast.
Suffocating hope.
My body could not contain the Bliss.
I was petrified to identify it
Least it run rebellious from its namesake.
But I did.
And it stayed.
We've been getting along better these days.
6 comments:
I hope this is going to be part of that collection you're building right now.
i relate so closely to your words, candace.
always riveting.
p.s. i second plumes comment!
I adore this.
xo
This gave me goosebumps.
Also, I love your new blog design.
You tug at my heart strings writing about the naked and vast sky.. the emptiness of the heavens is nearly as beautiful as you, but silent and wordless... I prefer my universe with you in it.
two things,
the sight of a meal in a bathtub gives me homesickness in my soul, but makes me so glad
and your words are beautiful, lachrymose and enchanting to me
xx
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