ee cummings at midnight.

i am eve

paradise has found me

after midnight

in the unlined hours

of this day

consumed

by words

i am

consumed

falling

into

my

hands

there are poems

here

that breathe

that have

secrets

i hold them

a little bit longer

than i should

they are the soft skin

of my grandmother’s hands

they are

the happy sitting

around a christmas table

before we splintered

i hold

all of this

sweet fat

that fills

dripping down my chin

into the hollow

of my collar bones

i keep all my secrets

there

it satisfies

i am

for a moment

full

yet

it leaves me

empty

again

and

hungry

for

more

is what i crave

haven’t i always been

chasing glorious things

wildly

i wonder how

there are people

bored

with life

when there is so much to eat

on this page.

— ee cummings at midnight.

© Liezel Graham 2020.

Photograph by Zoltan Tasi.

A poem about losing yourself in the words of a poet in a darkly, quiet house, when all you hear is silence and all your hunger is filled with the richness of another’s words.

liezel

3 thoughts on “ee cummings at midnight.

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