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How many sons must I swallow
To reach absolute zero
What I thought was a flame inside my heart
Is only frostbite
Disintegrating from within and holding the core of you in my mouth
Cronos stone, and I may lay in torpor
From this blood bitter pill
Let me lie and don’t wake me
As I let you lie for years
Let the shroud cover us in this bed
Cobweb smooth as velvet sheets
And don’t make a sound, my darling.
If no one stirs, we won’t wake hungry ghosts
And nothing shall consume us
| I like this because the first two lines are sort of plain stated and not, they are kind of illuminant and I can see this dark landscape beyond which the orange orb of the sun is swallowed and it's sort of beautiful and (present) backed up a bit from the pain. All of those things|
Cronos stone and torpor deserve further investigation, and going back there's the eating of sons, so this is probably in and around the mythical, but for now, I just wanted to say these things - and
that I enjoy the very precise syllabic quality of this and how each line turns a thought in to something else.
a simple hurt. That's what it makes me think. Things that will not calculate presume to be ongoing. That is is the toughest place.
Best to you.
|| Posted on 2012-07-23 00:00:00 | by Daniel Barlow | [ Reply to This ] |