Monday, May 27, 2013

Origins - a tanka sequence


my shadow
darkens in the land
of exile...
an empty memory
trapped without an origin

by the land lengthening
the day’s jubilee,
my eyes germinate
blood-red plums

the day ends;
its translucent walls
shelter my shadow…
my thighs spread to declare
the surrender of men

my sisters
form an unassailable barrier...
fields possessed
by the secrets
of budding seeds

dear sisters:
you are made of a fabric
that resists
the wooing of time…
toughened in firm silence

to the crackle of fire...
the breasts
of women detach
like recently baked bread

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