I admit the briar
Entangled in my hair
Did not injure me;
My blenching and trembling,
Nothing but dissembling,
Nothing but coquetry.
I long for truth, and yet
I cannot stay from that
My better self disowns,
For a man's attention
Brings such satisfaction
To the craving in my bones.
Brightness that I pull back
From the Zodiac,
Why those questioning eyes
That are fixed upon me?
What can they do but shun me
If empty night replies?
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Comments
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Zodiac wallpaper with mistic ducks with boiled rice and chilli sauce, I guess I'am hungary even yeats must have munched in- btween poems.
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I like the middle stanza the most. It's so expressive and bare, like the bones and the truth.
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A clever, open souled piece.
Although I like each verse, the last seems seperated in subject slightly from the previous two, or maybe I have just missed some hidden bridge.
But still an interesting poem for those who can look at themselves.
Andrew
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