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You open to me a little then grow afrai

You open to me
a little
then grow afraid
and close again
a small boy
fearing to be hurt
a toe stubbed
in the dark
a finger cut
on paper.
I think I am free
of fears
enraptured abandoned
to the call
of the Bacchae
my own siren
tied to my own
mast
both Circe
and her swine.
But I too
am afraid
I know where
life leads.
The impulse
to join
to confess all
is followed
by the impulse
to renounce
and love
imperishable love
must die
in order
to be reborn.
We come
to each other
tentatively
veterans of other
wars
divorce warrants
in our hands
which we would beat
into blossoms.
But blossoms
will not withstand
our beatings.
We come
to each other
with hope
in our hands
the very thing
Pandora kept
in her casket
when all the ills
and woes of the world
escaped. .

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by:- admin posted in:- erica jong

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