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Barred Basis
Sky's lefts bygone when there's not enough clouds
For her every color's soul to change in—
A motionless mime with no body shroud
For singe of sun, pleasure of moon, on skin;
No silver lines to join in morning vows—
And stars only cross themselves by heaven.
When she's in the midst being sensed and had—
She's still in wait for rain's approaching dash.
None of water's everywhere-ring to hear,
Making of diamonds of the destroyed piece
Of myself spitting upon it to clear—
In secondhand wells, top of trees I see;
Shadows facing up to belie my tears
Will fill the sky, as their lust ceases be
Where she spills over to become a bride—
And it seems I am torn out of the sky.
Copyright ©
Paige Hind
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