Ragged Claws

“We could never really say what it is like,
this hour of drinking wine together”
.                                                      (Sharon Olds)

You never knelt before me,
drying my feet with your hair

but then I never claimed
to be a Saviour.

The water that we drank
may have been wine

but how should we have noticed,
with our flesh and shadows

melted and moving,
coated in sweat and come?

This entry was posted on Thursday, April 9th, 2009 at 1:46 am and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.