brazen

women are the glorification
of the uniform;
man, those temples of abstraction—
their hierarchies bloom
architecture,
like forgotten constellations
deepening brightest skies;
they bear their curvatures,
they don their edges,
their breath, god-like ink
meeting the pen to the page’s breadth,
here and there at once,
eternal.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s