by Honor Davis
My eyes have aged.
They’re heavy,
and guilty
- and whilst they lift with little ease
my drink rises with a soothing abundance.
My feet are still and bare.
When they once paced
they now lie
When they once ran
they now rest
- cradled by a high stool.
The sun’s unwelcome glow burns against my lids
I squirm at its intensity
and hide behind my wine’s sweet scent.
At last the day’s glow lifts me
- as gravity had drowned me
And light bounds through me
- as drink had turned to numb me.
 |
| De Koning van Thule, 1896 by Pierre Jean Van der Ouderaa |
My eyes have aged.
They’re heavy,
and guilty
- and whilst they lift with little ease
my drink rises with a soothing abundance.
My feet are still and bare.
When they once paced
they now lie
When they once ran
they now rest
- cradled by a high stool.
The sun’s unwelcome glow burns against my lids
I squirm at its intensity
and hide behind my wine’s sweet scent.
At last the day’s glow lifts me
- as gravity had drowned me
And light bounds through me
- as drink had turned to numb me.
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