The Sculptor's Daughter

Jan 22, 2006 04:10

The sculptor’s wife is leaving him.

She believes what matters comes from her body.

The leech of her impress on his hand has made it so he can only work in plaster, bits of white stone coming from his eyes.

Obsessed with to bear and the act of letting, she bore herself into a child ( Read more... )

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ultimateteddy January 23 2006, 00:57:49 UTC
I absolutely adore this poem. Especially the line about paleness.

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