04-05-2017, 07:08 AM
A Marriage of Beauty and Hunger
He was her mirror,
a catalog of imperfections.
She his voice
as she’d forgotten how to speak
for herself. Each day, she would gaze
upon the captured sunlight
of his glory, and he
at his reflection in the water until
the pond ate him.
He was her mirror,
a catalog of imperfections.
She his voice
as she’d forgotten how to speak
for herself. Each day, she would gaze
upon the captured sunlight
of his glory, and he
at his reflection in the water until
the pond ate him.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson