It is brought by birds, blue and black at the tip of every wing.
How is desire undone?
By lying still and silent at the bottom of the stream.
When do you best love your darling's dark hair?
In the early mist of morning and every seventh spring.
When do you most adore your darling's dark heart?
I'll score the answer on your bones if you dare to ask again.
______
Wowzers, kiddo! Sizzling! I love the blue and black at the tip of every wing, and "every seventh spring"!!
ReplyDeletewell now, i rather like my bones so i think i might pass...still at the bottom of the river...whew...concrete boots and all? or just a stone held tight to your chest...intense tonight shay...
ReplyDeleteLike locusts ..
ReplyDeleteI tried to comment last night, but my computer is pulling some major pranks...
ReplyDeleteAs always, the phrases are mind-boggling. And I love the threat/promise at the end.
You say more in eight lines than many do in eighty here. The imagery is as dark and delicious as a sixteen layer devil'sfood raspberry torte, but one you might have to run by your personal taster first, just in case all that sugar hides something dangerous. Nice flash on the Fleetwood Mac, as well.
ReplyDeleteOh my - I won't be asking then!
ReplyDeleteHow I love that last line!
ReplyDeleteYour opening lines
ReplyDeleteare often jewels
in and of
themselves,
Shay-
Aloha from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral
><}}(°>
> < } } ( ° >
< ° ) } } > <
"When do you most adore your darling's dark heart?
ReplyDeleteI'll score the answer on your bones if you dare to ask again."
Here I am wrapping up The Dark Tower VI: Song Of Susannah (where Susannah is in the basement of the Dixie Pig with the low men) when I stumbled across these line in your poem. I can't help but think that these lines would be perfectly at home nestled in the text of this novel.
I suppose I should keep my questions to myself then!
ReplyDeletedark, dangerous, beautiful!
ReplyDelete