Beauty Remembers, by Sara Norja
Beauty Remembers
I.
Kindling to anger
like August wood,
your mountain-storm voice
drained and drowned me –
Yes. I’ll admit
I was afraid, at first,
when they brought me
to your house.
II.
Your love of the roses
puzzled me. They never suffered
from your whims, unlike the servants.
I watched you tend them
with gentle claws.
I imagined that touch
on my flesh,
and shivered.
III.
Books I had aplenty,
more than merchant’s daughters
would see in a lifetime.
I ate them up, hungry
for past knowledge and poems.
My fingers grew rough
from the jagged page-edges.
Once I cut myself deep
on The Anatomy of Melancholy
when you prowled the library.
Sucking my finger
till my mouth was iron,
I saw you watch, eyes afire.
And I knew: you, too, were hungry.
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