From her ribs and from the hair of women
Seen swimming sun-warmed rivers in summer’s light,
From untroubled brows and eyes clear and driven
Gazing out from tower windows when falls the night
From hands cupped round pipe bowls alabaster carved
When veiled invitations coy as blossoms under shade
Invite a virgin’s dance a rose-dappled love so starved
Where seen a coarse matron not yet ready to fade
And the tall bones of legs ‘neath rounded vessels perched
Swaying lusty as a tropical storm above white coral sands
Where in all these gathered recollections I have searched
To fashion this love anew from soil worked well by my hands
And into the bower garland-woven petals fluttering down
Hovers the newfound woman’s familiar unknown face
For on this earth no solitude is welcomed when found
And she who is gone must be in turn be replaced
And by the look in her eye I am a composite man
Assembled alike from stone, twig and stirred sediments
Lovers lost and all those who might have been
We neither should rail nor stoke searing resentments
For all the rivers this world over do flow in but one
Direction
– Love Of The Broken, Breneth