4th Confession
“Do not let my soul be bound to words
by the glue of love through the body’s senses.”
—St. Augustine
this chair, window, tree
data transmuted into the moment
of a poem, dative
the pairing of sense to soul
bound by words, a process
sticky as the glue of love
unbridled beneath a dome of stars
Orion’s broad shoulders, jewelled sword
brilliant, potent in Artemis’ absence
chastity pins virility to
the wall of night
beguiling in her tucked-up gown
moon goddess rails fury in a quiver
of arrows, blows monsoons
through the body’s senses.
—Mari-Lou Rowley
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from Interference with the Hydrangea published by Thistledown Press, 2003