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More poems by Elizabeth BishopElizabeth Bishop | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Elizabeth BishopBooks by Elizabeth Bishop

O Breath

Elizabeth Bishop

Beneath that loved   and celebrated breast,
silent, bored really   blindly veined,
grieves, maybe   lives and lets
live, passes   bets,
something moving   but invisibly,
and with what clamor   why restrained
I cannot fathom   even a ripple.
(See the thin flying   of nine black hairs
four around one   five the other nipple,
flying almost intolerably   on your own breath.)
Equivocal, but what we have in common's   bound to be there,
whatever we must own   equivalents for,
something that maybe I   could bargain with
and make a separate peace   beneath
within   if never with. 

Added: 19 Aug 2001 | Last Read: 20 Jul 2018 12:03 PM | Viewed: 8021 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/56/ | Viewed on 20 July 2018.
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