Resenhas - The Book of Repulsive Women

mirroredmind 24/05/2023

The Book of Repulsive Women
[...]
Until her songless soul admits
Time comes to kill;
You pay her price and wonder why
You need her still.

Adriana Scarpin 11/04/2015

Twilight of the Illicit
You, with your long blank udders
And your calms,
Your spotted linen and your
Slack’ning arms.
With satiated fingers dragging
At your palms.

Your keens set far apart like
Heavy spheres;
With discs upon your eyes like
Husks of tears;
And great ghastly loops of gold
Snared in your ears.

Your dying hair hand-beaten
‘Round your head.
Lips, long lengthened by wise words
Unsaid.
And in your living all grimaces
Of the dead.

One sees you sitting in the sun
Asleep;
With the sweeter gifts you had
And didn’t keep,
One grieves that the alters of
Your vice lie deep.

You, the twilight powder of
A fire—wet dawn;
You, the massive mother of
Illicit spawn;
While the others shrink in virtue
You have borne.

We’ll see you staring in the sun
A few more years,
With discs upon your eyes like
Husks of tears;
And great ghastly loops of gold
Snared in your ears.