INK
When it is quiet
I hear Dawn begging
to be let back in
But I can't meet Her
with shadows on my skin
I've crushed stars
to make room
for Darkness to stretch
and unfold
and spread
Her legs
When I am open
Night plunges deep
and rides me
... mercilessly...
the harder I breathe
mantras of moans
and chant spells no sun knows
The last time it rose
I rejected Morning's calling
Shattered birdsong forming
I chose to close my eyes
and slip
back into the limited bliss
of the abyss behind my lids
where all my sacred words
even my vows and all my hurts
drift on a river of
yearnings and memories
blurred lines and broken dreams
When it is timeless
When it is still
When it is endless
urgent and black
I sit and I spill
my words
my own Light
When it is quiet
I write
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I can relate to this, that's when I write too and I really like your personification of the night. Well done. 5ed.
I liked this. A couple of rhymes felt forced to me, but all in all, a delightful surprise, particularly at the end.
I thought it should have been the Night that opened and you riding mercilessly because the personification of the Muse is female. It still works, the way you structured it because indeed the Muse overtakes us, and perhaps I'm projecting too much sexual imagery in the stanza. Not sure; still worth thinking about IMO.
"and chant spells no sun knows" has got to be the phrase of the week; great line!
"my own Light" is an imaginative twist.
Very impressive, BE. I'm recommending it to others in the Poetry Feedback & Discussion Thread.more...
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