[Bluestocking Blues]
These unseeing eyes,
scattered
lights and winks spread like wings,
searching through
the litter for some unredeemable
object,
there she
was,
as beautiful
and unmistakable as a
corpse neatly
laid out in a field of flowers;
If I said
anything worth hearing, it was
missed, by
both our care,
we could
agree,
nothing said
could erased everything
we said that
lit the fire at the very
point we
became undone
She returned
carrying the belief in our own
glamour, the
lie now much lighter now
that it was
free from our combined efforts,
now present
in her arms in its downright conceit,
in all grins
of having destroyed, undoubtedly certain
of its
ability to continue to destroy-
-looking at
her, she was torn, shredded, a colossal
spectacle easily
mistaken for some Goddess long
banished from
all she’s known and ever will,
an orbit of
helplessness,
where she’s
likely to take anything offered,
even an
elixir sure to kill her without any harsh
aftertaste,
all afterglows from thenceforth-
-there’s no
longer a correspondence to an dream
interpretation,
no more a slight white where her
eyes use to
attached to the back of her head when
every inch
of me reaches into the ascending of her womb;
we are much
more a vision as a smoulder,
the way the
world treats us is a prejudice we
never have
the affordability to mind,
my bluestockings,
our blues is
not the end of us,
it is our
new epoch-
-from [UnderStudies]
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