This unashamed bleeding
into everything:
into the sky at night
into the morning light
into the turtle-dove’s wooing
Cooing, cuckooing
this darkened cocoon
this halo, this hollow
this woodland
this womb
This unreserved spill and slip
from top, to lap
from cup, to lip
this underclip
this haematomic healing
This catacombic shedding
deep down, this feather-bedding
into pools
spiral spools
and all the world, a-wedding:
This blessed release
from frenzy, to peace
under cover of night
under covers of white
this surfeit, this silence, this sleeping.
You should do a reading of this one, Ingrid. I love the sound and flow of it.
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