Holy Week Madrigal
denial’s last resort, Our Lady
of Glacial Melting. I’m falling,
as I always pray to do, in derangement
of blossom-prosper, for you,
pined for, prior even to Saturnalian,
suspended nowhere-tilt of amnion.
Believe me. Or don’t. I could not cast
words more true, us, once suckling
the calving ice of mother’s milk,
pale as first light, magnetic blue as flight.
Artwork by Alfonse Borysewicz. Mother and Child, 2017, oil & wax on linen, 93″x61″.