stark major

GARDEN (no, no, no)


The apple on its bough is [her desire], -
Shining suspension, mimic of the sun.
The bough has caught [her breath] up, and [her voice],
Dumbly articulate in the slant and rise
Of branch on branch above her, blurs [her eyes].
{SHE} is prisoner of the tree and its green fingers.

And so {SHE} comes to dream herself the tree,
The wind possessing her, weaving [her young veins],
Holding her to the sky and its quick blue,
Drowning the fever of her hands INto sunlight.
{SHE} has no memory, nor fear, nor hope
Beyond the grass and shadows at [her feet].


lido por nuno q., 05 de agosto de 2005