Despair, Edvard Munch, 1892

[Despair, Edvard Munch, 1892]


I clamber up the crags through masking mist

of morning light, the edge of day, afix

the wings to arms and mold the softened wax.

Feathers fan out from my widening breast

as I inspire a fulness of my breath

then bow my head. Above me, feathers mix

in cream and white. Below, my knees go lax.

My soles flush flat to rock. Now cleave the wreath of rays. I wrap their brilliance back and pine

the earth away. The sun who loves me sees

me part the heavy light in yawning torques,

my flaxen bask, a yellow yellow twine.

A sap of gilded wax runs down in streams.

I’m wet and glistening golden. I am yours.


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