← v10n2, Fall 2011
Poetry · Volume 10, Number 2

None

I cut myself into a cave for you,

but you are quiet. You are shy:

an only child, you still hide

from blame and invitations

and you constantly deny

all suitors. I will not be

defied: you are the tongue

I plunge into this begging

razorblade so brightened

by my spiderweb of blood,

you are the one: you are

the venom in the serpent

I have tried not to become,

my Lord. You are the one.