My love with his hair of nightingales With his chest of pigeon flutter, of gray doves preening themselves at dawn With his shoulders of tender balconies half in shadow, half in sun My love with his long-boned thighs the map of Paris of my tongue With his ink-stained tongue, his tongue the tip of a steeple plunged into milky sky My love with his wishing teeth With his fingers of nervous whispering, his fingers of a boy whose toys were cheap and broken easily My love with his silent thumbs With his eyes of a window smudged of a train that passes in the night With his nape of an empty rain coat hung by the collar, sweetly bowed My love with his laughter of an empty stairwell, rain all afternoon With his mouth the deepest flower to which I have ever put my mouth Source: Woloch, Cecilia. “Blazon.” Blogalicious. Diane Lockward, 17 Jan. 2010. Web. 17 May 2011. How does this poem represent a modern version of the blazon?

1 year ago
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