poet Aldous Huxley

Aldous Huxley

#276 on top 500 poets

The Alien

A petal drifted loose
From a great magnolia bloom,
Your face hung in the gloom,
Floating, white and close.

We seemed alone: but another
Bent o'er you with lips of flame,
Unknown, without a name,
Hated, and yet my brother.

Your one short moan of pain
Was an exorcising spell:
The devil flew back to hell;
We were alone again.

Poem Submitted: Monday, March 3, 2014
Poem Edited: Monday, March 3, 2014

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