Whose last breath
will slumber
in your hazel eyes?
Which child's gaze
will go blank by your trigger?
For which maiden does your heart beat,
            whose heart is in your hand [i.e. she has given her heart to
ou, she loves you]
            whose feet are stained with blood?
Mountain man!
What fate
will pull the cliff out from under your feet?
Which woman's nipples will be burnt
by your dust-covered black curls?[1]
Tell me
at the bottom/in the depths of whose eyes
will your last breath find peace?

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Comments (2)

Christine Irving

: Gorgeous- wish i’d written, this: What woman will feel her nipples burn for your black curls in the dust, what mother for her son?”  You’ve summed up the sensual connection between lovers and son and all the fields of poignancy that lie between them in three lines- amazing.

i ‘m reading your poetry thanks to Maureen Thorson and her blog NaPO Wri MO.  I hope you get a chance to check it out.  I am so grateful to have discovered you!


It’s really beautiful and Touching .she is amazing!

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