PYTHIAS Poem by Barbara Korun
PYTHIAS
Rating: ★3.5
I sleep over the fissure;
sharp edges press against
my soul my heart my sex,
my warm breath pours
into the chasm,
a file of black ants.
O my thousand lives!
Now, now I breathe deep
the intoxicating breath
of all that is.
Monday, September 10, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: sex
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8/28/2026 5:20:05 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
