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it burns, burns, burns
by Leslie Ann EisenbergNight slashes down in razors
shrouding suns sweet custard
Roosting in my feathered head
circled walls of bamboo strands
stripe a bleach bare sky
Betwixt the weaves and loops of my withered fortress
a dream figure in liquid black chants deliverance,
he is parchment aflame, curling edges, a peppery eclipse in reverse
Bars transparent, dark knight steps inside
and parches my swallow throat,
caped shoulders swing a gentle arc around my cares,
clove and cinnamon whispers salve my bare and tender plumes
Fire breathes from his heart
My wings become fingers reaching for the warmth
His eyelashes stroke midnight upon my breasts
Leafless limbs weave an everlasting nest
04/25/2006 Posted on 04/25/2006
Copyright © 2025 Leslie Ann Eisenberg
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Julie Adams on 05/02/06 at 09:46 PM I love this piece, the title is perfect, the movement not forced or rushed, but paced well...the imagery is DIVINE...lots of fresh images and ideas...nice read, glad I went digging...peace, *jewels* |
| Posted by JD Clay on 05/10/06 at 04:44 AM This piece is brimming with poetic statements, deep, dark and beguiling.
pe4ce...
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| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 04/18/08 at 02:51 PM Mesmerizing - what a fine read! |
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