Monday, February 17, 2014

The Brahmin’s Daughters

The Brahmin’s daughters
on eve St. Agnes, turned round.
Selkie, kenning vision, 
cinquain to crucible found

Dove worship and brother spent,
sent breach cast to Thetis sea bed.
In neither candle nor candomble
could they find the reach
of the real unveiled
to eclipse the encroachment of time.

Be they her lauded tense, be they
ship swift loose of mooring,
or gift of sweat lead.

She shared with her sisters
Dharma caste, ascetic arabesque
As they walked out of rooms
Keeping time in iliacs
Crestfallen to satisfy the
always-wanting-andic-wanting-nothing, 
Demiurge dogwood finding light 
in Sakti gnosis, stairwell to kether
and it was a full moon
for a week 
on her skylight.

Her run, ephemeral
Wrangled in step
Slip to caress, in a
stare, elusive lucid
shell, to cull
to quell, a sigh pressed.

An object lesson, she
planes of points geodesic
Accidental gesture, caught
in zoetrope, how she deems to
dive situational sheath
not lost on illusion, 
holding paragon in order of precedence,
Tranquility preceding necessity.

The sun came out even then
arising on face value and subsequence;
betting on vascular, odds against, on
the internal works of the earth.

The body is the air, the water and the surface
floats above
moment cadence
nape, gasp, writ to caress
would they be but a sigh pressed.

2/9/11

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