On my Wedding-Night
It lightninged white and chilled.
Fired in nutmeg, aloes, and sweet myrrh
He was consumed.
I buried my face in the ashes
I found my eyes sewn tight
Until I spoke dark sayings in your name.
Black-winged, I rose above the flames
That ate my Bridegroom whole.
My twisted Child-Bride's sword
Plummets to the kill. Black sparks roar
And sting, and towering, they soar
Far above the White Mare on the Hill.
My hair clove through green earth.
A white scarab beetle played
My Bridegroom lay
In the midst of That Place
Which Scorches Mindlessly.
Still warm beside me.