Читать книгу Tales From Another Country - Группа авторов - Страница 4

Where questions, tossed like thistle spears,

prick the attempt, the gasp of secret knowledge, leavening

the slow outbreath that fills a room unanswered by the word.

A cornucopia of knowing, a wine of truth,

flush cheeks out with the fill and rush of it,

as Circe’s pets, puffed up, bay out the law

of sweet sophistry from the basement’s maw.

A knocking at the gate; the intention

of visitation raising such questions that tempt,

that lead me to a different part, another play

and played upon… Come, court me now,

with scents and smokes and seals, with dusty hands and heels,

call me to accounts – Where? Who? What? When?

Conjure my beating heart again.