Blind

On a sparkling afternoon
When the streets were filled with
White bows in schoolgirls’ hair
Acacia clusters dripping their honey
In a city whose blood floods my veins
That is no more than a brigadoon
She cornered me behind wrought iron
With her ornamental terror
Handing it to me on a plate
As if not to bite would be
Axiomatic of assassination
As if diamonds were priceless
As if I were holding the Earth in balance
As if my white bow had not already
Told the whole story

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6 thoughts on “Blind”

  1. What a powerful image to end with. I love the way it begins so innocently and the begins to drive to the end stronger and faster. Really well done in such a small space. Great read. I read it out loud it was wonderful.>KB

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