Kermes

Black, Red and Black, 1968 - Mark Rothko
Black, Red and Black, 1968 – Mark Rothko

 

Helen, you look like a new wound tonight.
Your lips rubbed raw by one thirsty for your skin.

Helen, the red you wear begs you for mercy.
Your cloak of blood brings even the night to shame.

I cannot speak the language that asks for you to take it in its mouth.
I know only the tongue that made slaves of men.

Helen, the rooms are on fire.
When you move it is a pyre on slow heat.

Helen, your eyes are two ravens tonight.
The hair across your face like a veil you have no ask for.

Mountains come to claim you. Tinder within, ice without.
I turn to look at you and a hundred quiet moans escape my lips unheard.

Blood moon, terrifying beauty.
The softest knife. The deepest damage.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s