04-23-2022, 11:39 AM
Dawn's cataract has flowered, unfolding absence,
and a shoal of wings and cries,
mouths jagged as the sky spell their warning
to my daughter in her underworld, withholding only
hunger from her heart of many colors.
Her body of another love knows no others.
Morning is a quantum for her whom sleep has spared,
a jack-in-the-box of liars
that plummets at noon into hexagonal night
until harrowed back again by a child's delight.
Starlings cluster in their ragged towers
sharpening their voices against her hours
until the machinery of daylight
disperses their sleek and wanton terror.
and a shoal of wings and cries,
mouths jagged as the sky spell their warning
to my daughter in her underworld, withholding only
hunger from her heart of many colors.
Her body of another love knows no others.
Morning is a quantum for her whom sleep has spared,
a jack-in-the-box of liars
that plummets at noon into hexagonal night
until harrowed back again by a child's delight.
Starlings cluster in their ragged towers
sharpening their voices against her hours
until the machinery of daylight
disperses their sleek and wanton terror.