Mal
McKimmie
from The Brokenness Sonnets I
My head is atomic with unspoken thought. My heart a river that strains its banks until released by seizure. Nothing changes — I wet myself, I grow older. And while I pace behind my body’s bars like Rilke’s panther, hands soothe me, hold me, wipe from my face my failed speech — I am loved. But still, like a tree trapped in eternal winter, I am time-twisted, rain falling inward, with never a spring, not one flowering word. Not even love will free a single finger for my poems blue as the sky, blue as the rain, to spread wings and fly from an alphabet board. Under my skin I have a different name.
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Mal
McKimmie. |