Monday, April 25, 2011

The dawn was breaking the bones of your heart

Today was mostly sunny, and then the late afternoon and evening unexpectedly turned into thunderstorms and rain. Thinking about the sunshine, I decided that this poem by Richard Siken, from his book Crush, would be appropriate.

Visible World

      Sunlight pouring across your skin, your shadow
                                                                          flat on the wall.
               The dawn was breaking the bones of your heart like twigs.
You had not expected this,
                       the bedroom gone white, the astronomical light
                                                            pummeling you in a stream of fists.
       You raised your hand to your face as if
                       to hide it, the pink fingers gone gold as the light
streamed straight to the bone,
        as if you were the small room closed in glass
                                                    with every speck of dust illuminated.
        The light is no mystery,
the mystery is that there is something to keep the light
                                                                                 from passing through.

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