Maybe my arms lifted as a woman lowers a dress over my head.
This is not what I want to tell you.
Looking at red flowers on her mother’s dress as she sat on her
lap on a train is Woolf’s first memory.
Then the sound of waves behind a yellow shade, of being alive
as ecstasy.
Maybe her mind, as I read, lowering over my mind.
Maybe looking down, as I sit on the floor, at the book inside the
diamond of my legs.
Even briefly, to love with someone else’s mind.
Moving my lips as I read the waves breaking, one, two, one,
two, and sending a splash of water over the beach.
What I want to tell you is ecstasy.
*
About This Poem
–Allison Benis White
*
Allison Benis White is the author of two books of poetry. Her most recent is Small Porcelain Head (Four Way Books, 2013). She teaches at the University of California, Irvine.
Bir önceki yazımız olan Fransız Öpücüğü İhtilali başlıklı makalemizde adem özbay şiiri, devrim şiiri ve devrim şiirleri hakkında bilgiler verilmektedir.
Bir Cevap Yazın