Devil,but she wore another face
A fine face,
A strong and shining bone-china face-
You think of silk
And the paint;
I know the skull-
Buttressed and built
To out last mercy.
Every body she has is a blunt hot weapon,
Under her stained glass
I burned seven ways
For seven idols.
YOU ARE READING
Small Silver Fish
PoetryA growing work of poetic exploration,this small volume explores life long struggles of a poet groping for evolution.
