clipper ship
attached to my hip
like a weapon
incendiary
and the rose blooms
in its cage
in its phase
during halcyon days
im not ready
heartbreak shatter silently
feel the rush
of the water violently
not doled out gently
in the anarchy
of the soul
we forget our colors
we forget our roles
but we are gilded still
and one day
if we are lucky
we’ll get our fill
Sappho, spelled (in the dialect spoken by the poet) Psappho, (born c. 610, Lesbos, Greece — died c. 570 BCE). A lyric poet greatly admired in all ages for the beauty of her writing style.
Her language contains elements from Aeolic vernacular and poetic tradition, with traces of epic vocabulary familiar to readers of Homer. She has the ability to judge critically her own ecstasies and grief, and her emotions lose nothing of their force by being recollected in tranquillity.
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