I let my raw voice rise
but I was chastised, asked to hold my tongue.
I couldn't see the scenery for wings.
What good is blocked out paradise?
And hour after hour to hear that
pallid music: dull, facetious
words repeated to the same
sweet harmonies, like the manna that rained
constantly to feed us.
—I was bored. I tore a feather from one wing
and laid it on his throne, blood tipping
the quill. God found the trifle
and spent light rifling feathers to detect
a spot of loss. So I confessed:
I'd pulled it out for no good reason
except my discontent. He threw me
violently into chaos. Wracked with soot,
my lush wings locked;
now I could only lower myself slowly
and sink until I glimpsed reflected rays
in one thin strand of river through the garden.
This seemed a lasting shape
so I chose that for my seduction's
body: sinuous bolts with skin like waves
of water. Horizontally, I moved.
Unknown "mystery girl NFS" Gloomy
- 16 years, 5 days ago
