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 Poetry

NEW BY

ADELA SINCLAIR

We touch roots

 

Drops of water brought me your voice,

determined to explain on slippery terrain.

The earth beneath asks me to bequeath

safety.

You catch your breath, pull mine into you.

How can I let you decide for two?

Surprised at my légèreté d'être,

the laughter that escapes, needs no crater

to be filled with explanation.

I am not in control, but I still hold

destined hands.

Our four sensory possessed treasures

allow the moon to peek into our caresses.

You undress me and we take pleasure

in this cosmic intersection.

Apology for prodigy

            For Charles Simic

 

I slimmed down all over,

a panther.

I lived to smell the food words

on their breaths.

All my family, carnivores, fragile.

 

It was a long summer

under the spoken fury,

a graveyard for cousins,

uncles and aunts,

scoured man-loves.

 

An old man told me how to dwell.

The way forward is all around

the number 8.

 

In the house

their masticating sounded

round the clock,

a chanting which bared

my soul of hunger pains.

 

The cook was missing,

I, the submissive

had to be approved.

 

That summer

I whitened the faces of the cast

with mortar from the basement.

 

To feed the hungry you must wait,

speak to livestock slowly,

break necks in one sweep,

allow no smell from your carnage.

 

 

 

 

A.S.

Russian Connection

            for Anna Akhmatova

 

His words,

muffled snores

cut the thread of poetry –

her poetry and mine,

leaving behind a dotted line,

black minuses of shadows passed

on white sheets of forgiveness.

 

A.S.

 

 

The feminine might bend the light           

                                                           

When I enter into yellow,

the curves’ shadows

decorate the wall.

In the dark, your visiting hands

press urgently my matter,

mold cells to fit

your palms.

The sweat trickles on

my skin,

truth streams

in between our

bodies.

The question in my mind is:

What reaction will you have

if I take liberty

to taste this and that of you?

Slowing,

surrendering,

the only rhythm I hear now

is you calling my name

again and again.

The safety of knowing

the dark exists

to surround us in this love

that breaks down walls,

camps down the street

eats, breathes horizons,

feasts on the promise

that the sun rises and

with the light

the feminine might.

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