Sep. 8th, 2015

anastasiav: (Default)
Liturgy

The hungry newborn is senseless
to the rotation of the earth,
the tides,
but cries in the night for succor,
for the nipple, cries
at vespers, compline, nocturn,
lauds.

For my survival, in the night,
I brought you to the bed with me,
we slept,
as when I was gravid with you,
slept and fed by turns
each secure near the others
pulse.

The earth has turned 3000 times
and still in the cool pink gray air
of matins,
I find you here, your strong colt legs
draped across my hip
entrapping me as your hands
twine and grip my hair like a
cord.



9/8/15

September 2015

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