BLACK CAT POEMS
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From a Man Dying on a Cross
The pains in my palms are threads of sightless fire
Drawn like fiery veins through blackened marble walls,
Crashing with a dull roar
To the ends of the earth.
My sick blook purrs.
Milky bosoms float through red hair,
Gaunt faces and sick eyes
Beside her face.
I debauch them with my forgiveness.
Only her, I cannot forgive.
Moonlight trembles as the silk of her garment,
The cross makes a long harsh shadow
Rigid in the sand.
Her white feet stir across the shadow.
poems by Evelyn Scott