Gift- based on Czeslaw Milosz’ “Gift”

“A day so happy.”

I write on the bluffs of the Mississippi

After being a mute, all day, in a

Whorehouse, pleasures abounding but no way

To call out for fares.

I sit over the river

And realize my thoughts have been speaking

For me though the purity

Of my action.

The fields become quilts of

Mauve and amber and my bitterness

Is honey in my mouth.

I speak of a sweet freedom

I taste in my bones; I do not feel silent.

My tongue is an animal.

I speak

And speak and laugh

Without making more noise

than a smile does.


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