Ain Exile

Ain Exile

A Poem by Hoyle Brannacht

 

Bound hands breasted,
he stands nude:
measuring milks in the River.
          --- His form belies the dais of winter,
               steppe and rued ---

Ain wound upon the elder Rib
stiffens his supple waist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He has gone beyorn,
awomb.

© 2008 Hoyle Brannacht


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"You concise minimalists you", is what I think your primary female figure should say adoringly.
We got alot of bible in this one, and alot of Lewis Carol-esk double tendril's burbling ovah.
From the womb, as in genesis to stare back upon the river, i.e. milks (mammary milks), is very clever.
And the ribs to Adam. Ain wound, cast from an ailing womb.

As always,
-Keep writing.

-Logan

Posted 16 Years Ago



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Added on March 12, 2008
Last Updated on May 21, 2008