She Slips Between the Silks


for Egon

She slips between the silks, my bold, cold mistress.
As I sleep she presses lips to mine, she sups.
She stems the flow of blood, my old, cold river:
sucks its flowless air and blues the room. She cups

my heart, she pumps and squeezes drily, lays me
grazing flat and frozen by her wiles.
Her breath, it sidles onto skin and greys me,
and gazing on my stilling lids, she smiles.

She visits me but once, has untold lovers.
I dream of how she comes to me, she creeps
the stairs of mounting days, she slays me.
She wants me once, but this once is for keeps.

She slips between the silks, my bold, cold mistress
Her kiss is once forever, never done.
The gift she gives each lover is unending,
her quest to turn all lovers into One.

20120320-160928.jpg

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36 thoughts on “She Slips Between the Silks

  1. I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t realize it could be Lady Death. “The gift she gives each lover is unending,/her quest to turn all lovers into One.” The biggest clue, my favorite lines, and I missed it. I blame it on fairy tale fatigue (just finished my longest piece ever, I think.) This was rather soothing after writing. Really enjoyed it.

  2. What a brilliant anthropomorphisation of death – and so refreshing to see death described as a woman. Thanks for sharing this wonderful poem – and for not making us buy it. I would have willingly paid for work this good!

  3. To think of death as a woman, a mistress…whoa! chilling, but very effective.. Wonder how many men think of death as the all consuming she…and for that matter women..think upon their mothers…the life giver as the death giver…Very original, Brian, and beautifully done!

    • It’s about time some of the old roles assigned switched genders Jackie. I had originally thought of writing something based on Fuseli’s The Nightmare but then saw the photo of Schiele and took it from there

  4. As I lay

    And with her kiss
    As I lay
    Cold shivers race my spine
    On that day
    Alas
    I will be hers
    And she,
    She
    Will be mine

    Chris Mcqueeney 3/21/12 12:33 P.M.

    I hope you don’t mind I very much liked your poem. I have never thought of death with a feminine persona before. Thank you for the poem of yours and for the inspiration!
    Wander

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She Slips Between the Silks


for Egon

She slips between the silks, my bold, cold mistress.
As I sleep she presses lips to mine, she sups.
She stems the flow of blood, my old, cold river:
sucks its flowless air and blues the room. She cups

my heart, she pumps and squeezes drily, lays me
grazing flat and frozen by her wiles.
Her breath, it sidles onto skin and greys me,
and gazing on my stilling lids, she smiles.

She visits me but once, has untold lovers.
I dream of how she comes to me, she creeps
the stairs of mounting days, she slays me.
She wants me once, but this once is for keeps.

She slips between the silks, my bold, cold mistress
Her kiss is once forever, never done.
The gift she gives each lover is unending,
her quest to turn all lovers into One.

20120320-160928.jpg

Leave a Reply

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