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Apr 2014
“This Bitter Language

I know your streets, sweet city,

I know the demons and angels that flock

and roost in your boughs like birds.

I know you, river, as if you flowed

through my heart.

I am your warrior daughter.

There are letters made of your body

as a fountain is made of water.

There are languages

of which you are the blueprint

and as we speak them

the city rises.”


― Elka Cloke
Not mine. All rights go to Elka Cloke
Sophia Adelle
Written by
Sophia Adelle
638
 
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