Читать книгу Door in the Mountain - Jean Valentine - Страница 99

I. DAWN

I try to hold your face in my mind's million eyes

But nothing hangs together. My spirit lies

Around my will like an extra skin

I cannot fill or shake.

My eyes in Bachrach's rectangle look in.

I, who was once at the core of the world,

Whose childish outline held like a written word,

Am frozen in blur: my body, waiting, pours

Over its centaur dreams, and drowns, and wakes

To terror of man and horse.