Lucille Clifton

who would believe them wingedwho would believe they could bebeautiful        who would believethey could fall so in love with mortalsthat they would attach themselvesas scars attach and ride the skin sometimes we hear them in our dreamsrattling their skulls        clicking their bony fingersenvying our crackling hairour spice filled flesh they have heard me beseechingas I whispered into my owncupped hands        enough not me againenough        but who can distinguishone human voiceamid such choruses of desire

Author: misterNnice

writer - poet - blogger

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