Warmth and weight and the strong feel of tide
Her soft and spreading body
A good-looking face
The little jaw, nervous and jerky

Within the clock, her body and hands
Excitement had already tried her strength

Her helpless weight back in the mirror
Opened her mild eyes
Plump well-rounded body
Ears and crisp black curling hair
Difficult and fretful

For some years away from youth
Of her strong working life
Rags she could not find the heart to part with

As she was and not deeply concerned
The days felt awkward, abashed, and almost guilty

That large, helpless, mild presense
Had to come, it always came, sharp and short
Every minute something new

Struggling was not a thing for her
Closed her eyes and rested still
Her enjoyment and consent
Of the house, and the indifference
Or of herself, that on the one hand
Lay bare the wound

Of kitchen soap
Flat, good-natured face

Denuded, and there he sat
Rarely talked at all
Embracing hunger with his greasy hair
Always in her eating room
Made of onions and fat, chunks of meat
She longed for, that she quietly longed for

09/10/2010

Posted on 09/10/2010
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