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:


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

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

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