Plain Pattern
Wild cat sprung
To slash my tongue,
Severing the circuit from my brain;
Wild child smiled to see
The crimson rosary
Which hung about my lips
(honey from an urchin's finger tips?)
Wild child wheeled
To make it purr
By ripping out
A squirming swatch of fur
To make a raw-skinned lake
In wilderness.
Wild cat,
Wild child
Purred and smiled,
Leaped up on me, and fiercely
I pressed them hard against my breast:
Spurted mirror on the wall
Held us in thrall
As we whirled by
(a Trinity pressed tight with pain):
The dappled glass spun flat
To a patterned plain
Devoid of pain and brain
And fierce wilderness,
But tracing purrs for little children there.
x
|
