a response to Rainer Maria Rilke’s Duino Elegies below is the second of ten poems.
Noble words revolve
like wisps passing through my stars
A temporary, fractious glory
flings my arms like backward wings
with feather tips,
spread in sweet torture.
Wandering tension throbs in this dark belly of thought,
the first birth or dismembering of consciousness,
buttering me with music…
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