March 29, 2013

Chrysalis

 

 

 

Chrysalis  < read by Melody

 

Three days of white

threads wound

fine

around

around.

 

Three days of light

shrouded linen

fine

white

light woven.

 

Three days of . . .

 

             Where hast thou laid him?

 

And she thought

Are his wings still wet?

 

When he said

Touch me not.

 

 

 

No transcript available.