odalisque

Groping, you chose me to be the statue of
all allegory, just by the habit of immersing
myself in your sea at the end of the world;
I lose my head beneath your bare stare and
with each step I become glass to be ground

By chance were I not your favorite lover,
the one who advances sans hesitation to
nestle inside the hatch of your hand just
as it snaps shut, were I not your favorite
lover who bites to sip the venom from
your wounded heart would your palm open?

Oh tie me down so that I do not go
away every time I hear your thieves song,
singing at the expense of day, I confuse sand
and snow, wolves and shadows, your hand
on my shoulder, and it’s too late to turn back
to set my hours by the sun, now you have
marked me with your secret alphabet, and
now I belong to the tribe of those who dwell
inside the radiant darkness of those who look
their best with eyes closed, lying alongside
the edges of all abyss, languid to watch
ravens fly away, never to return before the
Dove of the oblivious moon

©Ionwhite

Reproduction d'Art: Odilon Redon "La Naissance de Vénus" 30 x 70 ...