Alan Fox
SILK WOMAN
The silk which she loves
flows against her skin,
the white silk spun
from a cocoon of words,
spun and shimmering in her dark eyes
against dark skin
which tells her who she is
and who she is not,am I the moth inside
her mouth where words
form, silk cocoon dark skin
against the words of need
I did not say love
until which of us can tell
I cannot
who is the spinner
who, the moth
who, the silk.
–from Rattle #25, Summer 2006
November 1st, 2008 at 3:02 am
Beautiful — the language spins its own fine silk: swirling, provocative, making us wonder.