Читать книгу Shattered Sonnets, Love Cards, and Other Off and Back Handed Importunities - Olena Kalytiak Davis - Страница 10

may be you are like me: scared and awake

A wreath of violets lain where my brain used to be. Matutinal,

frantic. The usual. Scalded and cold. I descend. I work like a bird.

I hear spring coming from a long mile off. A distant jungle-meadow.

It comes, it sings. Says: To be heard you must be let, be in. To be heard

It is best to hum, like water. It's true, I am barnacled and black. The un-

Derbelly, the sternum, the prow.

Was, I used to confess the nuns.

Was, the prettier they were the less they said. Week after week whispered

The one I loved like a secret: "I must avow. I'm of that type that's mostly

Hype." I let Him forgive her merely on the strength of her brow. Sister,

Says I, wear it like a wife. Then I'd go wash my hands in mint and rose.

May be, you are like me: all pose.

May be, you are cutting each word harder

And harder, to listen. I'mall watchandwile,waitingtobe Called. Lordy-lordy-lord,

When I asked to be left alone, I didn't mean, like, now, like, this. Full-deep:

All solace and solecism. Un-sail-able. Un-vale-able. To spring, to light, to sleep.