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osculation for easter flower

Sandra Miller

if we weren't made of soot—which we highly suspected/respected in her garden—she had no garden we did not love her—we did not let her picture fall from our wall forgive & foment—no one kissed me where like bad jewels—good black dirt what song can't do & does—magnificent thumper in the wild 'the secret blackness of milk'—'sordid intimacy of the abyss' when it became a corolla—flickers you are like an angel—yelling for attention—still more still my lamentation is as perfect—an almond a shell her eyes an altitude—amnesic lover gathered her skirts—to the blond chapel altarbirds follow us—herehere herehere

Copyright © 2005 by Sandra Miller. Reprinted from Oriflamme, published by Ahsahta Press, 2005.

Copyright © 2005 by Sandra Miller. Reprinted from Oriflamme, published by Ahsahta Press, 2005.

Sandra Miller

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“I trust your Garden was willing to die ...