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Lilith As A Babe
Margo Berdeshevsky
A gashed boat, on a fierce rock ice-slope.
The night-birds, strangled. The light, unrepentant.
I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry.
~
Night's hand hot mad-gladdens your
sleeping. For a good time call Lily.
Scavenge-sweeting. Insect — her. Howling.
Tongue-fiddler. Teaser. Dearest.
~
You lookin' good fo' yo' age,
the street women approve of me.
Naked as a shaman's cape. Hungry.
Being a babe. I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry.
For all old love. For all old men.
You were my howling-space. Wing and freefall.
What prayer was of use,
making me of skin?
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