segunda-feira, 10 de maio de 2010

Poem of the day: Ignatz Oasis

Monica Youn

Ignatz Oasis

When you have left me
the sky drains of color

like the skin
of a tightening fist.

The sun commences
its gold prowl

batting at tinsel streamers
on the electric fan.

Crouching I hide
in the coolness I stole

from the brass rods
of your bed.

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