Burning Questions

Alison Fell
Scots
b. 1944

 

You are a lynx and a liar
and I have my father’s dancing eyes
and laughter crackles between us
like snakes or lightning
in the quick dab of lip

Laughing we touch and fly;
we are buzzing and crafty,
uncatchable.

Laughing we deny
what is darkest in us,
the world’s strong shadow,
the need to choose.

What shall we do with each other?

I know the shock of the future
and the whistling silence.
I do not know you.
You may be translucent,
I may pass right through.

Sit down and settle,
Let me melt into you.
You must tell me your truths
and see if I sting.

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