Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘3’

Found Fragment 3

—the times I slept alone, dreaming my slack body over you, your winged shoulders spread, your back carried the weight of my body— the heavy weight of the horizon. My trembling hands translated your form into a winged Assyrian bull, a support of my desire, as a figure of myth, circling, or a broken recording: Beethoven’s sonata number fourteen, opus twenty-seven in an endless loop, coursing through the blood, in […]

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