Monday, June 16, 2008
If Her Heart
If her heart
had moral order
like a map –
if the architecture
of its temple
could be seen
in some clear
vista on a hill –
if the ambience
of its proclivities,
adherences,
magnetic pulls,
antipathies
and deepest
yearnings could
be heard as
fugal harmonies –
if its symmetry
and music were
a body, warm,
and sweating
scent – perhaps,
for once,
she thought,
she wouldn’t worry
what it did
or where it went.
.
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