Her woven skin, of alabaster silk,
Colour of opal & yearning moons,
China bones, of pale delicate milk,
Bending & breaking, far too soon,
Nails,
of rose & translucent shells,
Transparent, as early sunrise lakes,
Her eyes, the depths of sacred wells,
Blood, where cells, thirst does slake,
Whispering veins, of weaving thread,
Heart of drum, that keeps life´s beat,
Skeins of hair, that garbs gold head,
With hands that touch & walking feet,
Packed beautifully, in protective womb,
Given life in seed & God´s sweet breath,
To walk this earth, from birth till tomb,
Vulnerable always, till the hour of death.
No comments:
Post a Comment