Poetry

“Sorrows” by Lucille Clifton.

who would believe them winged
who would believe they could be
beautiful
who would believe
they could fall so in love with mortals

that they would attach themselves
as scars attach and ride the skin
sometimes we hear them in our dreams
rattling their skulls
clicking their bony fingers

envying our crackling hair
our spice filled flesh
they have heard me beseeching
as I whispered into my own

cupped hands
enough not me again
enough
but who can distinguish
one human voice
amid such choruses of desire

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