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Feb 11
in an ancient forest                      a chalice somewhere raises
dirt ridden murmurs                   in a temple of fire
caress the roots of                        beeswax begging
the trees                                         for raw sin
no one kneels                                at the foot
where there is flame                    in the palm
seal the sarcophagus                   we break bread
into the immortal night              binding books
we meditate                                 in holy dreams
for medicine                                we won’t need
honey burns                                us dogs of hell
gentle call                                    in the light.
something from my poetry class
ophelia letourneau
Written by
ophelia letourneau  23/F/north carolina
(23/F/north carolina)   
     Lyz Elysian
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