The Too Small Noises of Your Living
Evelyn B e nv i e
The too small noises of your living
Like static nails
Grate on my mind, even
When you are not here to live them
Constant as gossamer chains,
They keep me in my place
A reminder, you would say
“I am here,” in a voice like thunder
And sweet wine
I am always here your echoes say
Say, say, but you are no nymph
And I am no mirror
My mind is but two walls and you
Had I only a key, or a will
To exit from this prison flesh
To rend my skull to red red silence
Build new a frame of steel and dirt
Glass my bones and stone my eyes
But leave my ears behind for the ants
For the worms and the maggots
And other dirty, crawling things
Just like your words
Then on feet of shifting sand
And legs of crumbling mortar
Could I walk to sweet release
Of death or freedom, I know not
But either better than you
30
Cauldron Anthology