Easter Morning

a stone at dawn
cold water in the basin
these walls' rough plaster
imageless
after the hammering
of so much insistence
on the need for naming
after the travesties
that passed as faces,
grace: the unction
of sheer nonexistence
upwelling in this
hyacinthine freshet
of the unnamed
the faceless

Original text by AMY CLAMPITT
© La Pensine Mutine. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited.

Share:

No comments:

Note to the Reader

The Call of the Real
The Real is not reached by adding meaning, but by letting the dream die. If you've been following my work, you might have noticed a gradual decrease ...

Featured Post

Coffee Break

A new variation on my gluten-free vegan cheesecake with an irresistible taste of tiramisu and want-more.  Ingredients Serves 8: Crus...

Contact Form

Name

Email *

Message *