Sonnet 11

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2006/12/06
Sonnet 11

The new day's joy without, its consequence
Within, wrapped tightly, squeezing to a knot,
Hard bone, cold stone and steel set in defense
Against the kisses distant morning brought.

Dark fragments of a dream, a bitten lip
Evokes the maelstrom swirling far inside;
And caught within that storm, the fragile ship
Of one more prayer prepared to be denied.

"A crack," she muses, "That's what it's about,
Enough to let some peace find its way in."
Through where she slices, hell comes rushing out,

And then a sort of rest, deep in her head,
Her own flesh sacrificed to soothe her sin,
Stretched out exposed upon a sun-drenched bed.

Tagged with: ,