1/22/2011

A Black Robe

Against the night, the color of fire
ruins the purity of darkness,
an unsettling blemish.

Much like desire.

In the last few years, I've grown
into a piece of wood, the kind
that keeps the fire burning.

Once you loved me.

A kind of invisibility serves
the soul, a black robe, a drawn
curtain. In an instant light

disturbs it. O! what is painlessness
compared to beauty?

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