quoth,
she had declared mortal hands were never meant for sky. and yet.
surrounded by impossibility I listen to you
—  Jacqueline Risset, from “Of Bacchus and Ariadne,” Elles: A Bilingual Anthology of Modern French Poetry by Women (University of Exeter Press, 1995)
oh, take a silver dagger and oh so sweetly
slip it between my ribs.
caress my sinking rising lungs with
a sharp still point
nick out a pattern of foolish longing on my
red beating heart
sink it to the hilt in my
soft trembling love.
—  crown-of-crows, rending