Iblis Cast From Heaven
by Gord Sellar
banished lover of
day, a word
echoes within, sustains
in exile
again, the breath of voice,
the whisper:
Out.
thinking of your bodies
as clay dolls, life
bestowed with kiss, a
little air, too much tenderness;
life rides into you
on the back of
breath.
night precedes
cognition. breath
takes shape, haze
soliloquy to the frozen world.
feeling winter
inside my mouth,
throat, against the
meat-walls of
lungs, the borders with the spirit world.
— Saskatoon, 1999
February 8, 2012