23 April 2006

Poem # 3


I gather up
each sound
you left behind
and stretch them
on our bed.
each nite
I breathe you
and become high.



Sonia Sanchez

1 comment:

  1. Oh goody, in all the latest hijab/Saudi brouhaha, I hadn't even noticed this post. How wonderful. Great juxtaposition with Georgia O'Keefe and her, um, delicious symbolism.

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