You inspire me, love, like ivy that is bundled on my bony joints
to make me breathe the cooing of morning
unrepentant fears and emotions.
You inspire me as a life
late in the womb of a cave deep
and uncomfortable in the dark stalactite
shelter overflowing its maternal protection.
You inspire me as bloody bonfire flames
hand forged in the crucible
and proclamations. Mayte
to make me breathe the cooing of morning
unrepentant fears and emotions.
You inspire me as a life
late in the womb of a cave deep
and uncomfortable in the dark stalactite
shelter overflowing its maternal protection.
You inspire me as bloody bonfire flames
hand forged in the crucible
and proclamations. Mayte
Dalianegra.
Painting: "Mater Triumphalis, 1892, Annie Louisa Robinson Swynnerton, Musée d'Orsay, Paris.
NOTE: Thank you to everyone s for your readings and comments, I am thrilled to know that even if you follow me now even have time to visit you and grateful to you for personally, one by one. I am still moving, I left for about three weeks and may even be a few days without Internet. Meanwhile, when I have a free minute, she published a poem to update blogs, but I can not visit you as I wish. As time becomes available I will be reading, even a little bit. Excuse me, please.
Thanks, a thousand kisses, take care much.
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