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The Night Sky No clouds precede or presage me but we arise, each other's sun. Wide under me, your eyes give birth to stars. This is no mimickry or thaumaturgy of a soul: my words spell the unmarked marriage of you to you, your apogee to the lost bottom of your well. Go out again and, please, come back for me if you don't find me here but rid of words, those deafening lights whose radiance is constant black. The comet that divides my sky does not divide the universe so much as fact from fantasy: it marks the opening of my eye. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2009-10-04 16:07:09
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
That in intimacy are many things more than grasping lust is beautifully appreciated by this poem.
You've grown self-exploration here into connection with others, no more noble thing.
The last verse has a profundity that is at once gentle as falling leaves, and then striking as
shaking earth.
For my own part, this poem will not go ignored.
JCH