Sunday, February 23, 2014


Longing--she of the lyric bones--
viewing you through lace, forgets
to exhale, all this aching flute--
animates you, and what she awakens--
a grasp for the pearl past arm's length;
a glimpse of the rose in incense dusk;
she breathes in the iridescence of the hallowed,
and drinks alone from that hidden spring.


bluestorm said...

Iulia, your verses touch the heart.
it is a gift you have. thank you!

Iulia Flame said...

Thank you. xx

En plein air - in memoriam Andrew Bellon

A dreamless sleep falls from the shimmering leaves. --Sappho fragment, tr. Andrew Bellon I changed, thickened, ...

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