Thursday, January 18, 2007

Poetry Thursday

Beneath My Hands

Beneath my hands
your small breasts
are the upturned bellies
of breathing fallen sparrows.

Wherever you move
I hear the sounds of closing wings
of falling wings.

I am speechless
because you have fallen beside me
because your eyelashes
are the spines of tiny fragile animals.

I dread the time
when your mouth
begins to call me hunter.

When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want to summon
the eyes and hidden mouths
of stone and light and water
to testify against you.

I want them
to surrender before you
the trembling rhyme of your face
from their deep caskets.

When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want my body and my hands
to be pools
for your looking and laughing.


Leonard Cohen from "The Spice-Box of Earth
"

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Posted by Miss Scarlett @ 8:45 AM

Read or Post a Comment

What a very beautiful and meaningful poem! I've always loved Leonard Cohen's work, his lyrics are so deep and intense, and the music he makes fits them so perfectly indeed. Thank you for sharing!

Posted by Anonymous Dipsy D. @ 11:58 PM #
 
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    KnittnFool: Poetry Thursday