Friday, November 11, 2016

She Carries that Doll Everywhere

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 warmly

scent – perhaps, for once,

she thought,

she wouldn’t worry what it did
or where it went.


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