Madonna & Child
The crooks in the side of your mouth were magic. Dimples deep and reveling, celebrating your magic and youth. Those beautiful sauces dripped from your skin. I crawled closer, desperately seeking a drop. Land near me, on me, somewhere. I want the magic too. Incessant questions of how? May I discover the secret there to your majesty? Hair rolling down the sides of you face, from underneath your crown, your halo. Almost too sacred, a bit untouchable. I was so afraid. I waned to intertwine with a God of sorts. What a horrible sinner I was! What a lusty, lowly, greedy woman I was, you saintly-ness enticing me. Shameful. But like Madonna and child I wanted to be. It was not safe for me there. Your gaze was not safe for me. And so I glanced in every other direction, hiding in the minuscule bits of shadow, left over from your glorious rays.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.