Poetry Post: Leonard Cohen


Beneath My Hands

I don't typically post others' works here, but I've been asked to keep this one safe, and it is so beautiful, so like something I would have said if I could write like that, I might as well share it, too.

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Beneath My Hands
Leonard Cohen

Beneath my hands
your small breasts
are the upturned bellies
of breathing fallen sparrows.

Wherever you move
I hear the sounds of closing wings
of falling wings.

I am speechless
because you have fallen beside me
because your eyelashes
are the spines of tiny fragile animals.

I dread the time
when your mouth
begins to call me hunter.

When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want to summon
the eyes and hidden mouths
of stone and light and water
to testify against you.

I want them
to surrender before you
the trembling rhyme of your face
from their deep caskets.

When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want my body and my hands
to be pools
for your looking and laughing.

Posted: Sun - January 28, 2007 at 08:46 PM      

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