Gedicht
Pascale Petit
The Little Deer
The Little Deer
The Little Deer
Little deer, I’ve stuffed all the world’s diseases inside you.Your veins are thorns
and the good cells are lost in the deep dark woods
of your organs.
As for your spine, those cirrus-thin vertebrae
evaporate when the sun comes out.
Little deer too delicate for daylight,
your coat of hailstones is an icepack on my fever.
Are you thirsty?
Rest your muzzle against the wardrobe mirror
and drink my reflection –
the room pools and rivers about us
but no one comes
to stop my bed from sliding down your throat.
© 2010, Pascale Petit
From: What the Water Gave Me: Poems after Frida Kahlo
Publisher: Seren, Bridgend
From: What the Water Gave Me: Poems after Frida Kahlo
Publisher: Seren, Bridgend
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The Little Deer
Little deer, I’ve stuffed all the world’s diseases inside you.Your veins are thorns
and the good cells are lost in the deep dark woods
of your organs.
As for your spine, those cirrus-thin vertebrae
evaporate when the sun comes out.
Little deer too delicate for daylight,
your coat of hailstones is an icepack on my fever.
Are you thirsty?
Rest your muzzle against the wardrobe mirror
and drink my reflection –
the room pools and rivers about us
but no one comes
to stop my bed from sliding down your throat.
From: What the Water Gave Me: Poems after Frida Kahlo
The Little Deer
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